Exit Wounds
by Cecilia Dashwood
Summary: After the game but before the movie. Cloud and Tifa had one night together in a Chocobo stable and never saw one another again. When tragedy changes Tifa's ideas about independence and responsibilities, she leaves Kalm for something new in Edge. She will soon find out that life isn't about what she wants but what she needs. AU.
1. My Daughter's Eyes

_The inspiration for this comes from a translated interview back in 2009 for the FFVII 10th Anniversary. The scene for Cloud and Tifa under the Highwind was supposed to be a little more adult: "the original idea was more extreme. The plan was to have Cloud walk out of the Chocobo stable on board the Highland, followed by Tifa leaving while checking around" (Nojima, 2009, retrieved from: /lifestream-projects/translations/2693/ffvii-10th-anniversary-discussion-p-8-to-13-of-the-ffvii-10th-anniversary-ultimania/)._

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Chapter One: My Daughter's Eyes

She hadn't thought of him again until her baby daughter opened her eyes for the first time. They were a luminescent blue, big and round with thick eyelashes - just like his. She had inherited her dark hair, hanging in wild ringlets around her chubby cheeks.

"She's so pretty." Tifa whispered to herself, taken aback by how exact a mix her baby was of the mother and the father. her own brunette hair matted on her forehead and the sweat drying in the hot room added weight to her eyelids and her body sank deeper into the uncomfortable hospital mattress. Her hands steadied themselves enough to print her newborn's name on the required birth certificate and other forms: Skye Emily Lockhart. Afterwards, she slept with the cooing infant in her arms, waking only to admire the creation she brought into this world.

No one sat in the delivery room with her. She'd like to think her mother and father's spirits were standing beside her with proud smiles. Her father would've been nervous for the life ahead of his grandchild and would've insisted she came home to Nibelheim. But there was no more Nibelheim. She threw her cellphone in the ocean when she found those two little pink lines in the bathroom of the Costa del Sol hotel room - there was no more home.

Yet Tifa felt almost smug about her decision. If the Planet could evaporate Shinra from its veins then she could start fresh with her new baby. Somewhere safe and quiet with idyllic fences and open skies. If that were even possible to find.

She hummed soft lullabies to her baby, but also to herself. She'd never felt stronger or happier in her life; even if she couldn't shake away the looming feeling of vulnerability that comes from the realization that all her choices in life had led up to this moment as a single mother alone in the hospital.

She held baby Skye close to her. She didn't whisper a promise of protection, but only a declaration of the self-denying love that she thought she knew all too well. Skye slept with a smile.

But this was her only happy time.

A two months premature birthdate never boded well for a baby, let alone an underweight baby with a heart defect. The doctors gave her a month. She only lived to see three weeks. She died in her mother's arms, not knowing she wasn't the first to do so. Tifa buried her in the family plot an hour north of Nibelheim on a rainy summer day.

"I'll miss you." She knelt down and kissed the fresh mound of dirt next to her parents' graves. The tombstone would be in during the next few weeks, but she had left a fake number and name. She paid the funeral director as soon as he stopped speaking and didn't come by the town for the night. She rented a car to the airport and stayed in a motel overlooking the runway. As the sink shook from planes taking off into the starry sky, she succumbed to her tears.

The next morning she caught a flight and a cab to her apartment in Kalm. Most of the baby's furniture she sold to second-hand stores when the doctors told her there was no possibility Skye could come home. Returning them seemed more heartbreaking. The remaining odds and ends that couldn't find another home: the family heirlooms, baby blankets, and bibs, found their way into a corner of the hallway closet. She closed a lid over that box and wrote a blocky SEL in black permanent marker.

She didn't sleep well during the next nights and stayed in the same black hoodie and white sweatpants. Her stomach still had the tell-tale markings of a pregnancy. The physical pain came back in small moments; the emotional pain lingered. Sometimes, when she lay in her bed with no hope of sleep, the voices of her past would replay in her head. The fleeting conversations with her old friends, conversations she wished she could have recorded.

Except for one: "Words aren't the only thing that tell people what you're thinking…"

She buried her head under a pillow in embarrassment, gripping the fabric of the pillowcase so hard in hopes that just maybe that conversation would disappear.

She reached over on the nightstand for the half-empty, super sized bottle of liquid sleeping medication. She drank it straight from the neck, her lips tasting old and new medicine. It was no magic pill. She still had twenty minutes to remember the scratching feeling of the hay and his body on top of her. The minutes that seemed so fast yet so rewarding. The moments that both made and wrecked her life. As she drifted into the comforting blackness of sleep, she didn't think about the blonde spikes on top of the body keeping her warm that night, nor did she think about his terse goodbye to her after the events of the next day. Instead, she thought of her baby's big blue eyes closed against the cruelties of humankind forever.

"I'll take it." She quavered, looking over the white walled, small space just below her budget. Her stuff, including the box with black letters, stacked neatly outside the main office in her white pickup truck. She packed up the day before and left Kalm, leaving a terminated lease in her wake. Her landlady understood when she asked about the baby. Tifa said she wanted to go home. The older woman gave her an understanding nod and said something about a mother's love curing all wounds and she wouldn't hold this against her bill. Tifa gave her that small smile people save for those who meant well but said the absolute worst thing and paid her last rent.

It was when she loaded the final box into the passenger seat she remembered 'home' didn't exist. She considered starting over again in the cold, gray walls of Junon, but she drove south, as close to the Midgar ruins as traffic laws would allow.

She knew little about the emerging city named Edge. It seemed too close to the ruins for the air to be healthy enough for a small baby, which is why Tifa didn't consider spending her pregnancy there. She also didn't know who still lingered there. Barrett left obvious hints that he planned on going back to his mining hometown and Yuffie longed for the "attention" surrounding her in Wutai. So she pulled off the first exit and found the apartment complex. The woman's eyes didn't shift when she heard Tifa's budget, and showed her the single bedroom on the first floor.

"Wonderful." Her eyes warmed at the thought of a sale. "We will need to fill out the necessary paperwork. When can you move in?"

"Oh, within the hour."

The first thing she did after she moved the boxes into her new place was take a long walk around the area. Her new complex wasn't far away from the main streets of Edge, which made her consider selling her truck all together and pocketing the sale.

Edge reminded her of the slums, the only difference being the sun reached through the gray clouds and touched pieces of the town. Pedestrians still carried the same worried look from the days when they lived under the plate. The sun only highlighted their wrinkled brows and drooping eyes.

She turned a corner. Street names weren't available yet, but the city plan was open enough for Tifa to clearly navigate her comings and goings. Her eyes cast themselves away from others, in hopes that no one would recognize her. Not that she had been much before Meteorfall, just the owner of the damn best little bar in the slums. Cities had that way of attracting everyone and his mother and Tifa wasn't in the mood to catch up.

She continued along the long street, thinking about that little bar crushed by the hands of tyranny. It cost every penny of her savings for the down payment on that bar and she had just worked up the money to fully own it when the plate dropped. No one called to compensate her.

It was then when she saw the white piece of paper in red writing: HIRING - INQUIRE INSIDE. Tifa looked up, it was a restaraunt. She pushed through the door. The room was dark with wood paneling and red carpet. Walnut room dividers separated the dining room from the kitchen and cash registers. Music played, but Tifa didn't have time to figure out which instruments they were.

"You here for the job?" A dark blonde teenager asked. Tifa blushed - it hadn't occurred to her that someone could be watching her.

"Y-yeah." She nodded, beginning to feel how out of breath she was. The teenager held up a finger and trotted behind the dividers. Minutes, though to Tifa they felt like lifetimes, later an older woman with short, curly brown hair and nothing else except for angles and hazel eyes. The woman gave Tifa the once over; assessing her long, greasy hair and oversized black sweatshirt. Tifa felt herself shrink back, wishing she had taken a shower or ran a comb through her hair before walking out of her new place. The dull, sore pain in her stomach returned and she couldn't decide whether it was nerves or her body healing from childbirth.

"Come with me." She motioned Tifa to follow her behind the paneling and into the food handling area. She folded herself into a seat across from the woman.

"Vanessa," the woman introduced herself. She had a narrow face and a strong jaw. She didn't offer her hand, but Tifa nodded.

"Tifa," she offered.

"That's a pretty name." Vanessa had a slight accent to her voice.

She went through the spiel that Tifa used to do with wanna-be waitresses: do you have a resume? What about references? Do you have any food experience?

No. No. Yes.

Vanessa's eyebrows raised and then lowered. Tifa explained that Shinra and Meteorfall had destroyed a lot of her credentials. This wasn't completely a lie, but Vanessa kept a stern look.

"So, you're expecting me to hire you based on your word alone?"

Tifa lowered her head and muttered a small, "yeah."

She felt the table's weight shift and a small creak from the wooden chair opposite her. Tifa felt like talking about Seventh Heaven, her life before, perhaps her baby. The words all felt so small in her head.

What she didn't know was Vanessa studied her this entire time, trying to figure out why she couldn't shake the feeling that this girl could be great news for her, even with her lack of credentials.

"You're hired." She stated the words with a staccato punch. Tifa gave her a look of biblical wonderment.

"I'm in desperate need of help. I can't guarantee you much, but we'll start you dishwashing and then let you move out to the floor. A pretty girl like you might attract more business." Tifa could only nod in agreement.

"You'll need to get that hair cut, though." Vanessa frowned, "especially when you're dealing with food. You can wear whatever you want, just use discretion, please."

"Oh my gosh. Thank you." Tifa squeaked. Vanessa gave her an adoring smile.

"I don't know why, but I like you." She admitted.

Vanessa gave her a starting date and small instructions on how she'd receive her pay. As Tifa left the store, the blonde teenager gave her a congratulatory smile.

She scrubbed the roots of her greasy hair. Huge bundles of strands wrapped around her fingers and washed out of her scalp with the shampoo. She remembered reading in a baby book that hair loss after birth was a perfectly normal symptom.

She unpacked little by little, worrying about the immediate things like the bedroom and her clothes. She didn't have a bed frame or box spring, just a mattress and cheap sheets. She slipped into a pair of cotton shorts and the accompanying sleep shirt. She gave her hair a studied look in the bathroom mirror before grabbing a pair of kitchen scissors and began snipping away at her long locks.

The end result was a shoulder length, for the most part even, long bob. She tried to reshape her bangs and spruce up the layers. The scraps found their way into the kitchen trashcan. Her hair always dried board straight. The less of it made her head feel lighter, clearer. She pulled a wooden comb through the dark strands, relishing in the easier work.

Her bedroom was tiny yet adequate for a single woman. Her full sized bed fit nicely in the corner next to the window, which she had opened in order to feel the night sounds in the city. Edge was much louder than Kalm, and it was a welcome relief for Tifa. She sat on the mattress and leaned against the wall, working the comb through the ends of her hair. Listening to the sounds, she recalled the day. Her new apartment, her new job, her new world.

She didn't feel the need to reach for the bottle of SleepRite. She pulled her white and gray blanket over her shoulders and began to drift away. Those familiar blue eyes came back into her mind.

"I hope you're proud of me." She whispered into the night air.

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 _read and review, please!_

 __CD_


	2. Scattered Dreams

Chapter two: Scattered Dreams

"Words aren't the only thing that tell people what you're thinking…" She whispered in a low voice. She tip toed one foot over the other to face him. He regarded her with an uneasy, awkward stance. Tifa's heart hammered her ribs into a fine dust. Had she gone too far? Anxiety pulled her lower lip between her teeth, she tried to hide her blush through her curtain of hair. She considered turning back around and running away from it all, but knowing she was still under his blue gaze kept her petrified.

He didn't speak when he began walking towards her. His eyes took a turn around the vicinity of the area to make sure no one was around. Their hands grabbed each other's and she followed, only breaths away from his skin. They weren't drunk on anything but the scent of skin and the thick night air. He stopped to consider the surroundings making Tifa run into his strong shoulder blades, she let out a giggle. He held a finger to her lips and winked at her. Silence was the only way to win this game.

With his hand still on her lips, he shifted their weight around and guided her to the front of their small line. Placing his left hand on the small of her back and returning his other to lace around her right fingers, he pushed her forward and steadied her hips when she started to climb on to the Highwind. She climbed on as easy as a girl could in a mini-skirt and a warm hand moving from her back to her thigh.

When they both stepped off the ladder, that same finger that once silenced her lips curled under her chin and their lips finally met. He had no facial hair to abraise her skin. He pulled away as soon as she parted her mouth open, pulling her to the engine room.

She pulled him into the back hallway. It was dim enough for the naked eye to miss any shapes and the hay could silence any sound.

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Tifa woke to the sound of traffic feeling ten pounds heavier and six years older. She stretched feeling that sense of unfamiliarity all too familiar after a long sleep. Looking around, she realized she had fallen asleep on her small cloth couch with the TV on.

She draped black curtains over the main window in her living room and in the bedroom, and hung blinds over the rest. The light that did filter in from the outside was weak from all the clouds that hung over Edge. Tifa liked it this way.

She had found out she was pregnant when on vacation in Costa Del Sol. Looking back now, the signs were clear: nausea, extreme tiredness, aches in places where a twenty-something shouldn't be aching; she had never been great at tracking her monthly routine. She blamed that on growing up with a father who shut his ears to talk of birth control being used for anything other than sexual freedom.

One day, while sunbathing, she noticed a softness to her body. She wasn't practicing her old martial arts routine like she once had. She thought a run would help tighten her body back to fighting levels.

She only logged a half-mile before she toppled over on her hands and knees and threw up an empty stomach.

The drugstore stop was only supposed to be for ginger ale and crackers. The lone pregnancy test sat in damaged packaging next to the check out counter. She swept it into her basket before handing it to the clerk with her eyes cast downward. She took the test the next morning as per the instructions prescribed. She placed it face down on her balcony ledge as it processed.

Tifa pulled herself out of her memories and glanced at her watch - the same watch she used to time the three minutes needed to decide her fate those seven and a half months ago. She was on lunch shift that day according to the yellow sticky note on her empty refrigerator next to the pink one reading "Need Milk."

She pushed off the couch and started towards the shower. She traded the clothes she stripped off her body for a semi-clean towel lying on the bed. Her shower was quick and consisted of patting face wash on her tired skin and scrubbing circular suds on her stomach. She fared well in the avoiding weight gain during her short pregnancy but couldn't escape some the temporary discoloration. She dried and applied the lotions the hospital had given her as a courtesy. Her shorter hair proved easier to fix than the long, often stringy days when she had no choice but to coax it into a ponytail holder. She ran her fingers through the damp strands and then turned to the open closet to find her usual black shirt and blue jeans. She opted for looser clothes nowadays - more out of habit than comfort. She slipped on a pair of red sneakers, grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

Edge was comfortable for Tifa because she knew the Midgar slums as home. For outsiders flocking here for work after the economic collapse of Shinra, it was uncomfortable, muggy, and gray. Environmentalists speculated the city's infrastructure set so close to Meteorfall ground zero was the cause of the constant gray climate in a part of the world where sunny skies and low humidity were the norm. She had been spoiled, like other refugees, by the clean air of Kalm.

Rumors of disease in this area were rampant. Tifa studied some pedestrians on her walk to work, but she didn't see any tell tale signs of sickness.

"Just like you didn't see any signs of your baby." She laughed to herself and turned the corner to the restaurant.

Late lunch was a better time to start a shift: things were calming down and it would be a fair and laid back environment until dinner. Tifa didn't mind later shifts because she began working on closing tasks as soon as she clocked in.

"Ohmigosh, do you ever not come in early?" A chipper voice interrupted Tifa's time card. She flashed a small smile and finished her time.

"Never know if you're gonna need the extra help, Dee. Be thankful."

Dee, or Deirdre, the teenager working the front of the restaurant the day of her "interview" was actually closer to Tifa's age than she realized. She was Vanessa's daughter and had inherited in her mother's youthful cheekbones and dark eyes. She worked with her parents during summers when she wasn't off studying at school in Cosmo Canyon.

Deirdre signed off on Tifa's timecard. In return, Tifa grabbed a bus full of dishes that Dee had carried into the back room. The women walked close together, gossiping about hectic lunch customers.

"And then he walked out."

"Just walked out?"

"Yeah! Couldn't wait anymore! His lunch was ready three minutes later, so if you want a reuben before you start, or after you're off, it's in the fridge. I wrote your name on it."

"So that was all?"  
"Pretty much. We're starting to get some black suit regulars, they take advantage of our appetizers. But mom says cheap food is therapeutic for some people. One of them even drinks, so I guess they work for a laid back place."

"Maybe they have the job interview blues."

"I didn't even think of that!" Dee's eyes grew wider, "I feel so bad for judging them!"

Tifa unloaded the dishes at the sink and started the water and let out a giggle. Dee took an appropriate distance away from the sink for someone in a white tee shirt. Vanessa didn't make her workers wear uniforms or impose a strict dress code. She only asked that shirts avoided logos and sayings, pants were appropriate in length, and rubber soled shoes were only allowed when on the clock.

"Oh, hey." Dee began when she started back on to the floor, "I'm going to change the music, any suggestions?"

"That soft rock college stuff you have." Tifa felt so old when she realized she had no idea what was on the radio anymore. Dee shot her a thumbs up, five minutes later a strong piano medley with accompanying guitar strings and a raspy voice came through the central speakers.

She worked dishes through the warm, soapy water and then into the actual machine. Vanessa had frowned at the idea of Tifa, a clear veteran to the service industry, doing menial labor like dishwashing. She had tried to explain that scrubbing glasses and plates was the closest thing to therapy should could afford. They worked out a deal - she came in early to wash dishes and then the rest of the night she would run food, bus tables, and close the cash registers. She didn't tell Vanessa she did these things thirty minutes before close so she could end her night polishing stoneware.

Dee came in for moments to check on Tifa or tell her something she had remembered. Tifa would smile in spite of herself and laugh along with the blonde. Vanessa came in a half-hour before the dinner rush to remind Tifa where she needed her. Dinner wasn't as bad as they had anticipated - only Tifa knew that a Tuesday made for a slow dinner shift. Lunch was one thing because the crowd wants something fast and not have to go home or stay in the work place. She kept quiet and disinfected tables and vacuumed crumbs.

When the doors finally locked and the books counted, the three women went through another new routine.

"We can give you a ride home, dear." Vanessa said, pulling keys from her purse and waving in the general direction of her car.

"I like to walk." Tifa shook her head, "besides, my place isn't far from here."

"It's not distance I'm worried about, it's your health."

"Dilly-dally." Tifa waved her employer and co-worker away. She began her way before they turned the engine over.

One of her most treasured memories was looking out into the Nibelheim night sky before she fell asleep. The stars boasted magnificent wisdom that she could only awe. When she came under Midgar's plate, those stars were what she missed more than her SOLDIER, and more than her own parents.

Kalm had a nice display and the moon against the ocean in Costa Del Sol made Tifa feel secure and small, but nothing could compare with her childhood.

Edge's stars were nonexistent. Too many artificial lights and people, and, Tifa speculated, it was far too close to the one memory the universe despised the most: Shinra's HQ. The world had a way of recognizing when humans wanted independence and a very special way of bringing said self-sustainability to its knees.

It surprised Tifa how easy life moves around phases and monumental moments as streams pass around rocks. She hadn't been in Midgar long before it was gone, and she should still have been pregnant. The ruins and her body had managed to rebuild themselves in a short amount of time. She still missed her baby Skye and her big blue eyes. The time it took for her to get used to the baby's sighs and coos made missing her that harder. Each day made the pain easier, but it had only been three weeks. To Tifa, that's all life was: a series of forgetting, a series of new beginnings.

Her apartment's building always kept a small light on in the hallway. Tifa unlocked the door and kicked off her shoes. Her apartment felt big for once - too big.

What would she have actually done if Skye lived? She couldn't keep a regular job, one that involved night shifts would have been out of the question. She didn't have a family to call, nor did she think her friends would have been able to help. Developing a baby turning into a helpless little child to a hormonal teenager… she heard before that was the hardest endeavor anyone could ever take on.

At that moment, though, she would've given anything to hear her baby's cries.

She crossed back the bedroom and discarded her work clothes on the floor. She fished out of her jeans pockets for the tip money she'd earned from the two tables she helped serve - Dee and her split tips 50/50. It wasn't much, about 18gil all together, but still she dropped it into the small shoebox beside her bed labeled "Future Plans."

She didn't jump back into the shower because her rent was dependent upon her utilities and she used up her daily water allowance as per city ordinances. Instead, she crawled under the covers in white cotton maternity underwear.

She counted the various dreams she had throughout her life. When she was four, her dream was to be a black belt martial arts champion. At fourteen,she wanted to be a bride. Eighteen, she wanted to put Shinra in its place; at twenty, she just wanted to live to see twenty-one.

Now here she was at twenty-one, with only one wish to go back in time.

That night, as she drifted away into sleep, she let herself think of the man who started it all at fifteen sitting under the same Nibelheim stars talking about his own dreams.

It was in that moment that she knew she hated him.

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 _Thanks for all the feedback!_

 __CD_


	3. Ghost Town

_Once again, I am so humbled by everyone's great feedback! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I do have to put a trigger warning that this does get very dark in a certain spot._

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 **Chapter Three: Ghost Town**

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The drive from Edge to Kalm took about three hours, but Tifa made it in two and a half. Her little white pick up truck sputtered as it passed sleeker, darker cars. She hated doctor's appointments, driving, and talking about her body after baby. She wanted to make like the proverbial Band-Aid and get it over with.

The tiny town was one of the first to operate on the grid system, but wasn't ready to replace naming streets after notable people for numbers. Tifa had lived here long enough to know where everything was. The rest of the traffic didn't seem to have that luxury.

Pregnant women recall the address of their OB/GYN before any other address. Their due dates are more important than their social security numbers or ATM PIN's, and their doctors became their best friends. Tifa had liked being a member of that club, but her circumstances made her ineligible to stay in.

She missed her first appointment after delivery to bury Skye and move into Edge. The staff understood and her doctor and nurse duo sent flowers that made Tifa's apartment smell like fresh oranges, but that was the extent of sympathy she got. She knew she needed to go to her rescheduled appointment, even if it interfered with her work.

She pulled into the parking lot and sat there for a moment after turning the engine off. Her hands still held the steering wheel – her unpainted, dishwashing chapped hands. Once, not that long ago, her stomach was big enough to touch the end of the tight leather her hands held.

She shook her head. Today wasn't a day for sadness.

The clinic was busier than Tifa had remembered. An assortment of fabric and metal chairs littered the room and a bigger variety of people sat in them. She flipped her jacket's black hood over her head and crossed the room. The receptionist pointed her to a leather chair near the door.

"Since you're an actual appointment and not a walk-in." She explained. Her eyes had dark circles and her skin had a tired quality about it. Tifa glanced at the clipboard. The ratio of the word circled "walk-in" to "appointment" was almost unfair.

It didn't take long for a dark-haired nurse to call her name. Tifa didn't miss the glares the women gave her – especially those with babies bouncing in their laps. Behind her hood, she was safe to roll her eyes at them.

Doctor Louise Tobey was a fun woman who believed hospital gown colors should be anything other than blue or green. When Tifa found out she was having girl, Dr. T handpicked a pink gown for her for the rest of her appointments. Before that, she had hand picked purple gowns for the red-eyed mother. Often noting how regal she looked in deep jewel tones.

The nurse closed the door for Tifa to change. She almost laughed when she saw Dr. T had a purple gown out for her once again with a small note lying beside it reading: _For my Tifa._

It wasn't long before Dr. Tobey flew into the room in a flurry of gray hair, white jacket ends, and clipboard charts.

"Tifa, my darling!" She didn't embrace her while she was in the gown for obvious reasons. "My, you got a haircut!"

"I did it myself. I felt like I needed some change, and my new job asked me to snip the ends a little bit."

"You got a job? How wonderful! I saw your address changed to somewhere in Edge."

"Yeah." Tifa breathed the word out, "I needed to get out of Kalm."

"I'm sure." Tobey nodded in understanding as the atmosphere shifted to a more somber note. She busied herself glancing through Tifa's charts and instructed her to place her feet on the stirrups.

The exam went by as fast as it could. Tobey noted that everything seemed well … considering.

Considering that my body decided to eject a two-month premature fetus. Tifa thought to herself.

"Ok, that's enough of that." Tobey said as she moved her matching purple gloves and threw them in the trash. Tifa went behind the moveable curtains to change into her jeans and black jacket. She folded herself into the chair in the corner and faced her doctor's honey colored eyes.

"So how are _you_ doing?" Doctor Tobey sat her clipboard down somewhere. She held eye contact as she asked the words, folding her hands in her lap.

"The best I can. I guess." Tifa shrugged. "Some mornings are harder than others, but I've been keeping myself busy with work."

"And what work are you doing?"

"Um… waiting tables, dishwashing – it's a small restaurant in Edge."

"Ah. I see. Didn't you do that before your pregnancy?"

"For the most part, yeah." Tifa didn't like to brag about her bar. "This is little more labor-intensive than the last place, but it keeps me from focusing on, well, everything."

"What is everything?"

Tifa hesitated. Doctor Tobey kept an almost uncomfortable closeness to her body.

"Well… I…" The words stuck in her mouth like dust. Her hands clutched at the ends of the chair.

"Everything's all right." She answered with finality. Doctor Tobey leaned back in her own chair, crossing one leg over the other. Her eyebrows arched up. She didn't press any further. With the flick of her pink-manicured hand, she wrote something on a piece of paper. Tifa looked up when she heard the paper rip away from its pad.

"What is this?" Tifa examined the note her doctor handed her.

"Whatever you wish it to be: a prescription, a recommendation, and order."

Tifa folded the gray paper and slipped it into her pocket. Tobey gave her a hug and whispered sweet things – you will get through this, you're a strong woman. Tifa nodded into her peony smelling perfume. She held the woman until her tears threatened to spill over. When the two finally separated, Doctor Tobey handed her a box of tissues.

"They're pink."

"Skye will always be a part of you. Whether you like it or not, these moments will be the most influential over the rest of your adult life. I suggest you take my instructions seriously. And, Tifa, don't ever blame yourself. It was a perfectly normal, healthy pregnancy."

"That's what I don't understand." Tifa interrupted.

"These things happen." Doctor Tobey shrugged. "Babies have a way of changing our lives, even the ones taken too soon."

Tifa gave a curt nod in response and then pushed out the door.

She didn't sob into the oncoming traffic or sniffle as she pulled onto the highway. She set her jaw and pressed the gas pedal until her truck threatened to break.

Two hours later, when she pulled into her parking lot, she reached into her pocket for the note from her doctor and then shoved it in the glove box.

* * *

It was one of those rare days in Edge when the sun shone a little brighter and the clouds hung lower and thicker. Summers under the plate were bad, but summers in the surrounding area of the Midgar ruins were the worst. There wasn't much of a distinction between the temperature during the day and during the night; the night felt more bearable with the moon blocking away the sun's ridiculous heat.

Tifa looped her frizzy hair through a black baseball cap and adjusted the white sleeveless top sprinkled with perspiration and body spray. She had worked a 12-hour shift that day, and there was one task left before she could return to cool, dark apartment.

"Ok." Dee walked to her with a big brown box in tow. She was more enthusiastic than anyone closing because she was able to slip out of her sheer kimono. She walked around in the thin spaghetti-strap tank top her mother disapproved of before opening with a sense of pride.

"We've got all the non perishables, some bread, just in case, a couple of gallons of filtered water, and some canned veggies. Thanks again for doing this so late."

"I'm just happy we have some leftovers to give." Tifa said, taking the box from her co-worker.

"I know, right? Who knew Thursdays were prime days."

Tifa gave a small smile. Everyone in the service industry knew Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, were the busiest of the week.

"Now, is it ok to take all this to the shelter?" Tifa asked. She had driven her truck to work that night because of the charity run. She held the final box and didn't have to do a mental calculation to realize how much food Vanessa had decided to give away.

"Oh goodness, yes." Dee brushed off Tifa's question with a hand flip, "Dad is on his way here tomorrow to deliver the sign and a new shipment of supplies. Most of these are on the verge of expiring anyway, it's the least we can do."

"We're getting a name tomorrow?"

"Yes! About time, right? I mean, we've only been open for a month and half."

"No time wasted at all." They laughed.

"Yeah. We're calling time Clements' Time." It was a cute pun of Vanessa and Dee's surname, Clements. It also made sense for the restaurant's theme since they consisted of serving fresh sandwiches and fruit, a rare find in most of the grease-ridden eateries around the fledgling city.

"That's cute!" Tifa turned to walk out the door with her final box of donation food. Dee held the door open for her and helped close the bed of her truck.

"So you'll call me when you're done, right? I can clock you out, no need to worry."

Before Tifa could ask for Dee's number, she remembered something important: "Oh, right. I um… I don't have a phone."

Dee's look reminded Tifa of the time she saw a certain spiked blonde macho male in a dress at the Honey Bee Inn.

"I can just clock out now," Tifa tried to save. She hadn't even put the key in the ignition yet.

"No. No." Dee said. Her expression still bewildered, "I'll tell you what, I'll add a full hour onto your time. No questions asked."

Before Tifa could start the game of self-denial, Dee shook her head.

"I'm serious, it's not that big of a deal."

"Ok… thanks." Tifa's voice felt small.

"Wait, so why don't you have a phone?" Dee asked, remembering herself before Tifa could pull out onto the road.

"I just… um…" It was a bridge she should have crossed earlier, she knew. The solidarity of not having a phone was nice for Tifa. She slept better when calls didn't come in at 3 a.m. "I lost mine at sea a day before I moved to Edge, and I just never thought about getting a replacement."

Dee bought it. Tifa had only been here for four weeks, and, based on her frantic joint movements and awkward knowledge of the world around her, she knew her dark haired co-worker had been through something traumatic. Dee wouldn't press what it was though; in fear of losing her new friend and never finding out what this odd woman had been through.

"Ah. Well, you should fix that!" She patted the bed of the truck and waved goodbye. Tifa rolled up her window while pulling onto the road. Once at a stoplight, she glanced at her sweat beaded forehead and tired eyes in the rearview mirror.

The economic collapse of Shinra Incorporated affected a lot of people. An overwhelming reactionary sense of goodwill captured the hearts of the few people who weren't affiliated with Shinra, even spreading to those who were higher up in the company and had a few savings accounts and investments they could spend for the sake of charity. Among those people and projects came food banks, shelters, and free clinics. Vanessa and Dee were active in food charity before Tifa; but, her truck and biceps made things a lot easier on all three women - especially Tifa, it was an hour's worth of paid time that she could get done in twenty minutes.

She pulled into the parking lot of a white walled building with a small sign reading "Edge City Food Bank." She shut the engine off and slipped into a black athletic jacket she kept in the cab of the truck. It was too hot for sleeves of any sort, but she preferred to stay in as much black as possible. She pocketed the keys and slid out of the truck, grabbed the lightest box and walked up the ramp. She knocked the door with her foot and waited.

"Hello, hello!" An auburn-haired woman opened the door with a grin.

"I have five boxes from Vanessa Clements," Tifa started after her own hello. She hadn't run errands like these before, deciding whether it was appropriate to say "thank you" or "you're welcome" after dropping off donations was a mental battle she fought when she knocked on the door. Dee had marked the boxes with whom they were from and what they had inside. Tifa was only to deliver and pick up the tax write off - an instruction given by both Dee and Vanessa more than once that day.

"Oh yeah, that place down the street." Tifa figured out with Dee that she was bad at guessing ages, but this woman walked a fine line between underage and 18-and-a-day. She was strong, though, carrying two boxes and holding the door open for Tifa to bring in the rest of her supply. She shut the door and locked a big bolt.

"Can never be too sure." She answered when she caught Tifa's questioning eyes. The food banks in the area requested donors park in the back by the kitchen door to not disturb those staying in the shelter part of the building. It was also because most theft happened within the food banks themselves, more and more places around the city were upping security tenfold almost making it impossible to house the number of people they sheltered. Tifa didn't know much about this certain one, other than the owner was a former Shinra employee and that person hired refugees so they could get some footing back into reality.

It wasn't a matter of the appliances or countertops that made this place superior, but there was a certain cleanliness and warmness to the place. She couldn't imagine the other two shelters, the ones whose dirty dishwater she could smell after a hot day, offered. This particular kitchen felt, well, sort of like home. In that uncanny sense, of course, because Tifa didn't know a true mother's kitchen except for maybe -

"Here you go!" The petite woman handed her a pile of receipts for the donations and pulled Tifa out of her thoughts. Tifa blinked a few times before she realized that these receipts were meant for her.

"Thanks. Hey, this place is really clean." She said the words in hopes of the worker to see that she was impressed with the place and not strung out on some new drug cooked up in the bathroom of one the other shelters.

"Yeah. The owner insists on keeping this place spotless. Not that I mind or anything, but it does set us apart from the rest." Her voice was clear, confident. Tifa couldn't believe this capable redhead could have been a victim of Meteorfall. Most citizens above the plate had days to clear out, Shinra even showed them preference by shutting down most of the train tunnels after 5 p.m. so they could pack up and head to other towns. Not that it hurt the people living under the plate, in fact, staying under the plate kept a lot of people alive - they just had to suffer the consequences of irradiation and overcrowding. Maybe she came back to atone for her privilege, Tifa contemplated, or maybe she was the owner's daughter.

"I came here about two weeks ago ago. I lived in Midgar for school my family is from Gongaga. I graduated right before sector 7's plate fell and went to go work in Costa. After the incident, though; I felt compelled to come back." She began. Tifa glanced around her to find a nametag or something, but to no avail. "I just felt like I needed to do something, ya know? Getting the money to get here was a bitch, though." Both women nodded in agreement. Tifa began to collect herself to leave, but the lady stopped her before she could turn around.

"Do you want to see the rest of the place? No one goes to sleep until an hour from now, they'd like show off their work."

Tifa, growing tired from the day and her talking, nodded in reluctance. The girl then introduced herself as Amelia - a hotel management graduate from the former University of Shinra at Midgar. Tifa followed her down a series of hallways dedicated to arts and crafts from the refugee kids and black-and-white pictures of smiling families since the shelter's existence. It was well-lit by two fluorescent lights. Amelia explained that the owner was a stickler on rejuvenating the world and protecting the planet as they knew it. Tifa nodded along.

Heavy locks didn't block off the actual living area of the shelter - instead it was just a regular push door - not too heavy and not too light. The lights in the room were dim for the night, rows of fluffy twin-sized mattress with accompanying bed frames and box springs with thin blankets and heavy pillows lined the room with special closets for heavier blankets and games. Industrial fans weren't in the building, as Amelia explained, this shelter had enough money for central air.

"Wow." Tifa whispered more to herself.

"All the shelter tenants are showering right now, it's the only rule that they follow a schedule. Really to save water more than anything; the director doesn't like to rule with an iron fist.

"Oh?" Tifa glanced around the pleasant laminate floors and blue and white color scheme around the room. "Who runs this anyway?" Tifa hoped it was an innocent that would earn a perfect, innocent answer

"Oh gosh, I honestly don't know." Amelia continued, "He used to work for Shinra - as like a city planner or something like that. He opened this place up about seven months ago. He accepts anyone who's willing to ask if we have openings and even keeps a running mail service so they can find jobs. We do ask they leave when they save enough money for two months' rent and a thousand dollars for emergencies. You'd think that means we keep a lot of people, but we don't…"

Her answer neither soothed nor worried Tifa. She tuned her out and began to shuffle with her bag, and balance weight from foot to foot – the typical body languages signs for "I'm tired." She even faked a few yawns.

"Wow. That's great." She said without feeling. She then excused herself and began towards the back of the kitchen, Amelia followed on her heels. She was out of breath from keeping up with Tifa's long legs. She offered to show Tifa some projected plans and business models, but Tifa kept walking.

"I can't. I'm tired and I need to return these receipts." She was almost to the door. She went to open it, but Amelia caught up with her and unlocked the bolt. Placing a hand on to hold it open, she gave her pleading eyes.

"What'd you say your name was?"

"I didn't."

"Can I at least have your name so we can be on the look out for your donations?"

Tifa hesitated for a second. "I work with Vanessa and Dee Clements at the restaurant down on sixth. Don't worry about me."

At last, the door shut as Amelia shouted a good night. Tifa sat in her truck for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She turned the engine on after a few seconds and pulled onto the highway as fast as she could.

* * *

Tifa couldn't remember how she got to Midgar. In fact, she only knew rumors. She remembered waking up in a homeless shelter, back when they were primarily for the homeless and not refugees from environmental destruction, with a throbbing head and aching bones. The nurses and volunteers offered her chalky aspirin and unfiltered water. They would let her stay the night.

The next day she purchased a newspaper and train ticket down to the slums with the only gil she had. The woman running the ticket counter had a pleasant enough face behind the red uniform train workers had to wear. Tifa's headache kept in her the shelter's uncomfortable cot well into the afternoon, so she was able to experience Midgar at 5 p.m.

She picked the sector 6 slums– it was her lucky number and she figured the slums couldn't be that hard to walk around. If she got desperate, she could sleep under the plate on the ground. At least it was a roof. Though she had heard before that the slums were clean, considering.

She tucked her newspaper under her arm and fell in with the foot traffic pushing and bumping its way through the tiny doors on the train. Tifa tried to follow the example, but where one person moved four came in his place. She settled to stand on her tiptoes to see the train's map and schedule.

"Hey, pretty girl." A fleshy hand traced her exposed back, "you lost?"

Tifa turned around to see a plump man with a double chin and blonde Mohawk circling her with his eyes. Tifa shook her head and offered a firm no.

"Oh, come on." He inched his face closer to hers. She could smell rotting capers and make out a faded tattoo on his scalp. His hand went to go for Tifa's wrist but she backed away. He stepped closer to her, creating an awkward obstacle for other pedestrians.

 _Are they really going to let this happen?_ Tifa glanced around at the passer-byers, all with heads studying the brick walkway. Tifa closed her eyes for a moment and straightened up to her full height.

"I'm busy." She backed away one more time. He pressed further towards her. She could feel the sweat transfer from his brow to her shirt.

"Oh come on, baby. Come stay with me – I'll make ya feel real nice. Like a purring kitten." He had no intention of her consenting. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to his lumpy body.

Tifa dug her free elbow into his chest and kicked off him. He fell to the floor in a daze. She couldn't stop though, she turned away and walked as fast as she could onto the first compartment she found.

The train attendants deemed the crowd too big to scan everyone's ticket. Tifa fell in line behind three laughing young women and then grabbed a handle. The train made the first stop at Sector 1 slums and a significant amount of riders exited, leaving an empty spot in the back of the train for Tifa to tuck into.

People on the train were more interested in themselves than looking around. Heads ducked into newspapers, phones glued to ears, eyes glazed over into the distant corners of the train - it all felt so uncanny to Tifa. She knew Nibelheim wasn't some prestige example of neighborly goodness, but at least people had the common courtesy to smile at someone who met eyes with the other.

She folded her crossed her arms and let out a small sigh. She missed home. It was then that another passenger lifted up an open newspaper to his face. The headline facing the two read: CITIZENS SAFE AFTER DISASTER IN NIBELHEIM.

She had been admitted to a Midgar hospital with burns and a stab wound. She remembered how she got them; but she couldn't remember how she got here. Public records declared Sephiroth dead while Tifa recovered - she watched the coverage on the news every night at 6 for two weeks. The nurses didn't bill when they released her. They gave a vague answer. Someone had paid the bill earlier, Tifa just didn't know who.

She wasn't on the train for too much longer until the signs flashed for Sector 6 Slums and Wall Market. She pushed around hoards of people - surprising to her, most of them were men, and began towards a large map positioned at the train station. Tifa scanned for anything that might seem like a good place to work. There were a few item shops, a weapon store called "GUN" - though Tifa didn't know anything about guns or other firearms, a dress shop, and a few small inns around the area. The one that stood out to Tifa the most was an inn circled in red lipstick many times - to the point where the name was illegible. She glanced around the area, most men seemed to be going in that general direction. Tifa didn't miss the plotting, exciting looks in their eyes.

Perhaps it is some great hotel were underground meetings happened. Maybe young rebellious groups met in the slums at this place to plan the take down of Shinra. Who else would decide to hang out here?

Tifa thought all these things with Romantic inclinations as she followed the crowd into Wall Market. The crowd dispersed at the entrance, but Tifa continued to watch the young men scuffling towards a row of shops. The actual set up reminded Tifa of travelling carnivals - most everything looked like it was a tent covering the merchandise.

She thought of possible jobs she could do at the hotel - be maid, run a laundry service. Listen in the talks of revolution happening within room walls. She began to pass some of the members of the group. Her heart pounded with excitement - she was going to be a part of the greatest coup in the history of the world!

She turned the corner and saw the house where peace would happen. The walls seemed to be a drab gray concrete. It was hard to tell because plastered on top of them were signs reading "Hot Girls Inside!"; "Wet Tee-Shirt Contests Thursdays at 7!"; "½ off Tuesdays!"; and the like. There were also pictures of girls with soft skin, bleached hair, and questionable poses and outfits.

Tifa tried hard not to judge the building. After all, she rationalized, Nibelheim was so backwards compared to Midgar. Her parents married at twenty-one, and that was considered a later marriage. Midgar life went faster, harder, and didn't worry itself with commitment because it wanted to tests its options. Tifa pushed through the crowd - if they had a job, she'd take it. She wasn't in any condition to discriminate right now.

"Members pa… well, he-e-llo, cute stuff." The bouncer at the door gave her the once-over in hungry eyes.

"H-hi." Tifa stuttered. She cleared her throat before starting again, "my name is Tifa Lockhart and I'm looking for work."

"I bet you are." He mouthed "wow" to himself as he studied her even further. Tifa felt once felt naked in her dark shorts and white crop top. Looking at these girls on the wall, though, made her feel prudish.

"I'll tell you what, cutie." The man said after a small pause to check a list and let some leery men in. "I'll send you over to the Don himself for an audition, he'll get you the work you deserve."

A warm feeling flooded Tifa's chest and she ran out to find a mansion as per the man's instructions. She tried to ignore the wandering eyes that followed her legs.

The mansion itself was tacky to Tifa. Too much gold and it contrasted with the dirt walkway leading up to it. The security guard let her in with a wolf whistle and the attendant directed her up the stairs to the main office. She took deep breaths before opening the door and announcing who she was and why she was here.

"Hey, cute stuff, I knew you couldn't resist me."

Tifa's heart jumped. It was the man from the train station. He sat in a gold and velvet chair. His gut hung out and his meaty hands were clasped together. He gave a lecherous smile, stood up from his desk, and started towards her.

"Y- you -"

"I run this place. Someone tells me you're looking for work. You should really consider who you beat up at the train station… but you just look so… succulent… I think I can make an exception." Tifa backed away until she hit the closed door.

"I think I had the wrong idea of this place." She whispered. Her voice felt small reverberating against her teeth. He placed his hand on her thigh. Tifa's instincts kicked in and her foot met his throat. He fell back, wheezing and coughing. She took the first chance she could to bolt out of the room, only to find that the door was locked.

"Shit." She muttered. The "Don" began to readjust his footing and stood up. His smile grew wider. He pushed closer to her.

* * *

Tifa liked drive in the far left lane. It was the closest anyone could get to the Midgar ruins without flirting with trespassing. Edge situated itself near the Sector 3 slums/ruins; Tifa didn't spend a lot of time there when she did live under the plate. Now she wished she had.

She drove closer to the barrier separating her from the debris. Other memories tempted her when she looked over to the mangled wreckage. She had gotten herself in a lot of trouble more than once in Wall Market before. If only she knew then how influential that filthy old man would be on the rest of her life.

Thankfully, she never had to audition for Don Corneo. In the last seconds before he started to unbutton his shirt, she blurted out that she was fifteen. As a way to apologize and avoid a nasty police investigation, he gave her a job as the bartender of the Honey Bee Inn with strict orders for every man in the place to stay five feet away from her. Say what you wanted about Shinra, but they did have some very strict consent age limits. The second time she went to audition… well that's a story for another day.

She blushed remembering how stupid she was. Pulling into her apartment's parking lot, she muttered to herself about going places without a map. A habit she developed at an early stage in life. She did the same thing when she moved to Kalm. That time, however, people were more inclined to offer her support because of her swollen belly. That's how she came in contact with Dr. Tobey, an obstetrician for the free clinic who took an immediate liking to the single mom. She even offered to loan her gil for her security deposit, but Tifa wouldn't spill that she had enough gil to support her and her child for five years thanks to fighting fiends and steal materia.

She slid out of the truck and started towards her apartment. She looked over her shoulder one time to study the Midgar ruins against the moon-lit sky. Her ghost town. The time in her life she never planned on talking about with her daughter until she was eighteen. She pushed into her apartment thinking of Don Corneo and how he both helped and hurt her life. She shook the memories away. She did well if she visited the past monthly, anything more was bad for the psyche.

* * *

The next morning, she showered with red berry smelling shampoo and vanilla body wash. She twisted the ends of her hair to create a flirty texture and slipped into a black tanktop and blue and gold skirt. She didn't take her truck.

"Hi! I'd like to buy a phone." She was cheerful. The store owner gave her an approving nod. He showed her the newest options and asked her questions about what she used her old phone for. He asked if she wanted to try to restore her old number, but she declined.

She was in the processing of buying the black flip phone with a camera and texting abilities along with corresponding phone plan when the door jingled open. She didn't pay attention when the owner greeted the new customer.

"... I'd like to buy a phone." Came his deep, stern voice.

Tifa felt her spine straightened and her body go rigid. Despite her stiff body, her neck turned her head around to see the black sunglasses and corresponding suit standing behind Tifa.

Rude.

* * *

 _I feel like it's been a while since I updated. I've been in the middle of finals for my Master's degree. (Which end tomorrow. Thank God.) Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed! Please remember to review when you read ;)_

 __CD_


	4. Double Vision

Chapter Four: Double Vision

She was a pretty thing from Wutai with long dark hair and toned legs. A tennis pro to the former Shinra executives who sought refuge in Costa Del Sol from disease and destitution. He could take her home after a few rounds of whiskey, and get her in bed after a glass of wine. But Cloud was more interested in his own amber liquid than making eyes with her across the room.

It hadn't been the first time he'd noticed her. In fact, she was almost more striking in her white tennis skirt than the slinky black dress she sported now. It didn't help that she had tried to slide next to a large man with an even larger wife. Now her eyes were intense on his calloused fingers; he kept his head down. Cloud didn't like placing second.

 _Fault._

She crossed the room over to him. It was too crowded and dark for other eyes to stay on her sculpted figure for long. At this point in the night, men found anything standing upright attractive and still settled for the girls losing their drinks and salads in the bathroom.

"Got tired of playing mistress over there?" He spoke first. The rim of his glass touched his chin.

"Maybe I just found something better." Her throaty voice became more intimate when she slid into the adjacent bar stool. She whispered an order so the bartender could lean in and inhale her jasmine vanilla perfume. He came back with a scotch. She tried to take long sips - her heaving chest and hidden mouth proved she didn't know how to handle her spirits.

 _Double Fault._

"Trying to play cool girl, eh?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." She took a smaller sip this time. Her hand jerked the drink away as she grimaced the alcohol down her throat.

"Your scotch without soda, your dress with the slit to the thigh, your saunter." He swirled his own drink and took a long sip. She tried to mirror him. Once again she choked back what was in her mouth. Cloud smirked to himself.

"Maybe you're just reading too hard." She shot back.

"Or you're trying too hard."

"Mmm… says the man drinking alone at the most popular bar off the water. Doesn't really fit the strong mysterious type." Her hand glided on top of his. He turned his neck to face her. He downed the rest of his drink and slid some gil across the counter. He knew she'd follow into the balmy air. What he didn't bank on was her grabbing him by the ends of his shirt and crashing her lips on to his.

 _Ace._

The morning trickled into her pale gold and white schemed room. If he asked for it, he couldn't remember her name. If he hadn't, then he gave himself a mental congratulations looking at her lean body through sleep- heavy eyes. She heard him stir, adding weight on to his part of the bed, crawling up the length of his body. Their lips were only breaths apart.

He kissed her with disconnection. She purred further into his arms and continued to kiss around his face. She moved into the bathroom. Once the door shut, Cloud pushed out of the bed. He was out the door before the shower water turned on. It was too late for a cab to help him make a good getaway, so he turned down the street and walked.

The good things about girls from Costa: they knew when it was over. They had no grand illusions of giggling over breakfast and coffee after a hookup. They wouldn't expect a proper first date to follow, and they never would dream of little blonde haired babies trying out hair gel in their master bathroom with a whirlpool tub and his and her sinks. No, Costa Del Sol women had permanent tans and an easy difficulty level.

He felt sticky in his clothes. The humidity, and the leftover remains of sex, did that to a man. He turned the corner to the beautiful waters that the tourists flocked to back when tourism wasn't so expensive.

Costa Del Sol manage to keep refugees away by chance. The same former executives learning tennis from Cloud's bedmate rented out their vacation villas to friends for high prices and stocked the inns with pesky mother-in-law's reading too much about the growing crime rates in Kalm and their golf-playing husbands. The beach sported fake body parts and pre-nuptial agreements. The whole resort wore a veneer of peace and prosperity.

"Strife!" Cloud stopped in the middle of downtown. The man calling him was a bartender he had befriended during his stay here.

"Hey man," Cloud began, taking a step closer to his friend. "Good time last night?"

"You had one that's for sure. That girl that took you home? Hot damn!"

Cloud smirked.

"But, seriously, bro. You gotta start going to other bars. The girls are gonna catch up on your game soon. That's the fifth ass this week!"

"Who else in Costa is going to give a good discount?"

"I know, man. No one tips as good as you, sober. But I'm just sayin',"

"Those girls don't notice me 'til the last minute. I swipe up what those high rollers screw up by leavin' behind."

His friend laughed, showing a nice display of white teeth under a red haired less fortunate took their own stab at prosperity. Whether it was a robbery at gunpoint to the trust-fund babies stupid enough to wander away from the resort's entrance or the bartenders who slipped too much alcohol into the rich patron's drinks.

"Strife, I admire you. Cool name and makes it with all the good lookin' ladies."

"It's the life."

"Hey, yo. I'm runnin' late to a bank meeting or whatever. But I'll see you tonight, right?"

"You were just trying to kick me out."

"Man, I'm only concerned about your investments!"

"A'ight. Whatever."

The men took off in separate directions - the redhead went further inland and Cloud headed towards the sea.

Saturday morning wasn't the ideal time to strip down to one's underwear and dive into the ocean. But, in a beach filled with middle-aged women, Cloud knew he would earns cheers above anything else. Wolf whistles echoed along side the waves as his arms pushed through the water in nothing but his black boxers. He wasn't in the water long, but he made an impression on the cut-out, one piece sporting women. He accepted an offered towel and wiped off before moving under the pier to fall asleep.

Nights in the beach town took their time to ripen, bursting with beautiful bodies enhanced with tans. Cloud preferred to study the bleached smiles in the comfort of his regular bar, Seashells. He'd made friends with the main bartender, Chuck, and kept a seat away from the main happenings of the room. He picked up the scraps - both women and beer.

"Dude. I don't know how you get away with it." Chuck liked to keep near his flaxen haired friend. A man of little words, Strife - as he introduced himself - had a nonchalant wisdom that inspired its listeners.

"City life, man. No one stays still for long."

"I guess so." Chuck moved over to another customer. Cloud continued to sip his own drink. It was a pale ale, perfect for a coastal setting.

"Chuck," all Cloud had to do was whisper and his friend returned.

"Yeah!" He was eager. _Like a puppy_.

"What's the darkest beer you got?" Cloud shook his thoughts away.

"Uh… I got a black and tan in the back of the fridge. The darkest we got."

Cloud threw some gil on the table. Chuck replaced it with the opened bottle and waited for his customer to take his first sip.

Bitter. Sour. Flat.

"Thanks." He gave his nod of approval. Chuck moved onto other customers with a noted perk in his step. He kept the rim to his lips and began to remember the richness of Seventh Heaven's darkest beers.

She kept a varied stock of spirits, even if she went over the books to do so. This place? This place was generic and cheap. Like the rest of this damn town. It only hid behind the same lie of success as its inhabitants.

"H-hey, Strife!" Chuck whispered. "Check out those babes."

Cloud look up for a moment and noticed the two friends across the bar. They were pretty in that generic long haired, straight nose way. They faced away from Cloud when he looked over.

"Two for one, eh?"

Cloud regarded him for a moment before looking back over to his newest audienced. The girls giggled and turned their faces away again. It was a game he hated. But he played along anyway.

 _It's not like I have anywhere else to go_. He downed the rest of his drink and stood up. The girls glanced back over at him. There was one blonde who was pretty enough and a darker haired girl. He caught the brown eyes of the flaxen lady. He walked to them. He kept her gaze until the small, sharp green eyes of the brunette caught him.

His heart raced.

They exchange small cordialities before Cloud flashed a hefty amount of gil and tossed it to Chuck.

"Get these ladies whatever they want as long as they stay this sweet." He pocketed his wallet and winked at both the girls. He took a deep breath and downed the rest of his beer. He started out of the bar.

"Dude, you sure you wanna do this?" Chuck gave him a worried look, but Cloud shook him off.

"Nah man, they're all yours." He clapped a hand on Chuck's back and pushed out of the bar.

He walked for a little bit before finding a secluded bench on the beach walk. He laid on it and wrapped his black jacket around his torso. The sound of the waves and the sea salt air made him comfortable enough to sleep.

As he drifted away the sound of her voice filled his mind. His favorite memory of her - messy haired and sleep filled eyes. _"_ _I'm... alone... I'm all alone now..."_

* * *

That night she woke up in a pool of blood. The old sheets were ruined. She stuffed them in her kitchen trash can without any thought of trying to revive them. After the shower and precautions required to welcome in the first postnatal period, Tifa opened up the hall closet in search of a blanket.

"Hmm.. really nothing?" She asked herself. The bare minimum approach worked well for organizing, not so much for emergencies.

Well, there was a back up blanket. Tifa eyed the box shoved in the corner. It faced her so that she could read Skye's initials.

At first, she rationalized ditching the blanket and sheets all together and sleeping with the window open. She flopped on the bare mattress and propped her feet up on the windowsill, enjoying the light breeze.

Then the rain came.

"Shit." It was July: Edge's rainy season.

The bedroom door faced the open closet. She wrapped herself in an oversized sweater and laid on the bed.

She slept horribly, started her shift twenty minutes late, and suffered horrible cramps that bordered flashbacks to labor. They assigned her to the back to prepare food and check inventory. Dee stayed in the front and Vanessa locked herself away in her office. She shared the room with the cook, but he didn't talk much.

She began to succumb to her bad moods after AVALANCHE disbanded. Perhaps because no one looked to her as the emotional rock anymore. Or maybe because she moved in with a regular rain cloud.

Tifa never discussed the status of their relationship with him after that night in the Highwind. They stuck together out of, if hindsight were truly accurate, convenience. Friends who remained bedfellows in the strictest definition - only because they could afford one bed. He slept above the sheets even if she untucked them on his side. One balmy night she opted to sleep without blankets. The next day, he needed aspirin for his back after sleeping on the couch.

It wasn't the only attempt she made: she showered with the door open and folded her clothes in shorts and tight tank tops. He made himself scarce during the day and began to read newspapers during the night.

"Glad to know the world is still full of idiots." He spoke loud enough for her to hear from the kitchen.

"Everything ok?" She poked her head it into their small living room. The television was on to a news station out of Icicle Inn.

"... Nothing." He flipped the television off and started towards the bathroom. Tifa waited three minutes before following him. The door was locked but his clothes were discarded on the floor of their bedroom.

She picked them up, figuring that she could at least be a good girlfriend in theory. The clothes fell into the washing machine. Cloud went to bed before they were done. The dark light tempted Tifa, but she rolled her eyes at her romantic inclinations.

He had tucked the pink ribbon away in his front pocket. The frayed ends and fading color told Tifa all she needed to know.

She waited until he disappeared the next morning to leave.

No note. She took the money and bought her truck. She hid away in the Kalm women's shelter until she missed the sun.

"Tifa! I got a guy at the bar and swamped on the floor."

"I'm coming."

"Cheer up!" Dee stopped Tifa at the kitchen door until she cracked a weak smile. Dee rolled her eyes before going back into the dining room.

She took a breath and followed.

He hung his head so that the skin reflected the dim bar lights. The Turk demeanor permeated the small atmosphere within the bar. Tifa's breath stiffened for a moment - as if expecting a sudden blow or gunshot wound. Rude had never hit her during battle, even though she had given him plenty of opportunities to strike back.

"No running away now?" He spoke first, pointing to the dark draft.

"On the clock."

"So that's how you get her."

Tifa slid the glass to him. He wasn't in his Turk garb - opting for a plaid short sleeved shirt and thick banded sports sunglasses. She didn't say much, attending a pile of dirty dishes in the corner. She felt his eyes on her.

"Beer's good."

"Gotta be something worth living for," she heard the dull sound of glass hitting the wood. The glass was empty.

"Can I have more soul?"

"It'll cost ya."

He smiled. They moved back into silence other than the sound of dishes in the water and fingers tapping against glass. They stayed like this until closing. Her eyes lingering on his whenever she caught the chance.


	5. Release

Chapter Five: Release

* * *

Tifa had insisted on the bar. If it were medically appropriate, she would have brought a doctor's note when she pitched the idea.

The bar had been a controversial addition. In fact, the decision spurred management to change the name from Clements' Time to Clements' Time Pub and Grill. It wasn't a name Tifa liked, but she preferred metaphors to puns.

Vanessa originally intended her eatery to be a place for healthy, wholesome food with family values. However, that scene didn't work for the forlorn faces living in Edge who had recently lost that sense of optimism and instead saw death, destruction, and all the other bad "D" words.

"It's a temporary release. It may not encourage healthy habits, but it's better to numb the pain than to pretend it doesn't exist." Tifa argued one day after closing. Vanessa packed up her shiny laptop and the accounting books while she listened to her waitress' anti-prohibition argument.

"It's not a temporary release if we have a customer die of liver poisoning."

"They're not exactly thriving in this dirty air."

Vanessa's stiffened her jaw.

"I said no."

"But why? You run the books every day, I bet we'd make more if we had the adult audience on on our bill."

"It is dangerous, it is addictive, and it promotes reckless habits. I have my daughter working here, Tifa. What kind of message would that send her?"  
"She's leaving for school in four weeks, and I guarantee she's in worse situations at school than a restaurant with an accompanying bar!"

Vanessa glared until Tifa felt two feet tall.

"That came out wrong…"

"I would hope so."  
Tifa exited without a goodbye.

The next day, the applications for the liquor allowance were sitting on the back counter. Tifa had it filled out and sent in by noon. Processing took two weeks. Vanessa decided to open the bar early since they had the legal work done. Their first customers were newly employed sewage workers, reeking of the scum off people's shoes.

She hadn't seen Rude since his visit a week ago. She usually didn't keep an active notice of her customers since it was Dee's last week of summer and Vanessa was trying to find a replacement for her dear daughter, but, when Rude came in, it was as if all time had stopped.

She didn't know if she reacted out of fear or an abbreviated attraction, but there was something different about him.

"Notice how everyone looks dirtier and dirtier everyday?" Dee's voice broke through Tifa's thoughts.

"Not everyone has access to clean water."  
"Still. You'd think they'd at least try."

Tifa ignored her comment and wiped down the bar. It was closing time and Dee was surveying two people walking outside.

"Such sad people."  
"You would be, too… if you lost everything."

"I don't get it," Dee flipped a hair off her shoulder, "they had days to get out. Really, there's no one to blame but themselves."

Tifa strangled her washcloth free of sanitizer.

"But anyway, what are you doing tonight?"

"At 10 p.m.?"

"The night's still young! And we've never ever gone out together!"

"You've never- "

"C'mon! We can go dancing, drinking… I know you don't have to work tomorrow. Let's go!"

"Are you asking or telling?" Tifa shook her head. "Dee, I don't even have any going out clothes."

"You can borrow some of mine! It'll be so much fun! I'll pick you up at your place. Don't worry about the address because I have your file. I'll be there by eleven if we lock up now."

Tifa blinked.

"Did you just say that all in one breath."

"Duh. I still need a 'yes' or a 'yes' from you."

"Fine." She sighed. Dee made a woo sound and stuck her thumbs in the air.

"I don't know if this fits." Tifa pulled at the crop top and tight black pants. Dee had already smeared her face with thick, black eyeliner and peach lipgloss.  
"It's supposed to be tight." Dee called from the bathroom.

Tifa surveyed herself in the mirror. The extra baby weight was practically gone save for some extra tightness in the back of the pants Dee lent. Her chest threatened to spill out of the deep V neck vest Dee intended for her wear solo. The doctors gave her medication to stop the inevitable lactation, but they had always been big. She put a white tank top under the thin black fabric for the sake of basic decency. Her stomach, which once looked like a war zone of extra flesh, now settled into a soft shape. Because Skye had been so small and her pregnancy so short, the skin was flat and smooth. Her hips had hardly changed by the time she gave birth.

Dee walked out in a white dress and gladiator heels. Her body, taut and brimming with youth, made Tifa feel thirty years older.

"Oh my gosh, you look hot!" Dee exclaimed, "I would kill for boobs like that."

"They're more trouble than they're worth." Tifa rubbed her back as she spoke.

"Whatever." Dee fixed her feathery blonde hair in the same mirror. She bumped her hips against Tifa's and pushed her out the door.

Tifa had never seen Vanessa's car. The bright red convertible looked so out of place in her apartment's driveway that Tifa walked toward it before Dee pulled out her car keys.

"That's your mom's car?"

"No. She drives a silver Gwendolyn. Bourgeois, I was my graduation present."

"Wow." She looked at her truck, one of two cars she owned in the past year. The only two cars she had ever owned.

"Right? Mom and dad wanted something I'd actually care about." She opened the door and slid inside the driver's seat. Tifa followed her lead on the other side.

"You don't need your keys?" Dee flung them into a bright pink bag and threw that at Tifa's feet.

"Push to start!" Cheesy pop music poured through the stereo system and Dee sped through the parking lot onto the street. She kept a steady, fast speed down the small streets.

Dee finally settled on a crowded outdoor bar on one of Edge's slower streets.

"This place looks good, parking's not behind the bar." Dee explained, shifting her car into park and then reapplying some lip gloss. Tifa pushed out of the car and surveyed their watering hold for the night.

Tifa had always been particular about the way bars looked. With her old place, it was easy, just give the crowd something to take refuge in after the hard days demanded by plate life. This place wasn't too bad: wood exterior with complementing umbrella/table combinations. In neon green lights, the name boldly declared itself above the streetlights: Tree House.

When Dee finally came out of the car, the girls crossed the street and flipped hair past the local crowd. Eyes lingered on the two girls. Dee straightened up; Tifa's slouched shoulders moved closer to her friend.

The interior had a large glow-in-the-dark tree painted on the furthest wall and bordered the area with a mural dedicated to tiny houses with lit windows. The music featured thumping drums and mellow vocals. The crowd was of a medium volume. A good day for any bar.

Dee slid into a table for three and motioned for Tifa to follow the leader in placing her black clutch in the third seat. Dee arranged her hair and adjusted her top before grabbing the menu and devouring the drink section.

"Um… I think I want a Bloody Mary." She announced after painful silence.

"That's a hangover drink,"

"Pre-gaming! Ugh. You're right. What about a dark draft then a gin and tonic?"

"Beer before liquor, never been sicker." Tifa studied the ends of her hair as she spoke her favorite proverb.

"That's not true!" Dee snapped. Tifa felt her neck fall inward as she shot her coworker an incredulous look.

"Dee. Have you ever drank before?"

"Duh. Look, if you know everything about alcohol then go, like, order for me then."

"You can't just order for someone. You have to tell me what you like."

"Fruity."

By this time, a young waiter with a strong jawline and thick stubble came toward the two girls. His neck craned toward Dee's cleavage. Tifa realized that Dee had adjusted her top for the perfect cleavage to fabric ratio she had hypothesized during lunch rush at work. Tifa kept her breath quiet as the waiter stumbled through the drink specials. Dee leaned forward and pressed her elbows against her bosom.

"I'll have whatever she tell me to have." Her index fingers came together and pointed toward Tifa like children playing SOLDIER vs. Wutai Warriors. Her chin hung over her thumbs.

"Your darkest brew for me, and a Mai Tai for her." Tifa handed the menus over and focused back on Dee, who was enjoying the tiny attention more than she ought to have.

"Dee," She waited until the blonde remembered her partner, "when do you start school again?"

"Three weeks this Monday."

"And where do you go?"  
"Rocket Town University."  
"... you study?" Tifa tried again after a painful pause.

"Nuclear rocketing."  
"What?" The waiter brought their drinks. Tifa didn't miss the wink he shot at Dee.

"Yeah," Dee stirred her drink as she spoke. "Wasn't my first choice. But the parents threatened to cut me off if I didn't go. _So_ …"

"So you-"

"Sh! Hottie with a body, 12 o'clock. Don't make me look brainy." Dee took a long drink before flashing a flirty smile behind Tifa's shoulder. Dee's lip moved in between her teeth as the body sauntered past the women. Dee's eyes glazed over following the swaying hips.

"Dee, you can't be serious."

The glaze went away and the big brown eyes began to glare at her table mate.

"Um. _You_ can't be serious. That man was future husband material."

Tifa stirred her own drink around in its glass before pretending to sip. If she had been breastfeeding she could've flat out refused, but no one knew. A little trickled down her throat.

"Bad?" Dee noted when Tifa's face puckered.

"Bitter and flat." Tifa took a long breath, "I can take sour, but this needs to be thrown out."

Dee sucked up another fourth of her drink, her eyes kept on the door.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"I don't know yet." Dee adjusted her top further down. Tifa shifted in her seat.

They sat like this for an eternity of haphazard sips and slurping straws. Tifa watched, almost amused, as Dee drank up every man passing the table.

"So… am I here because I make you look old enough to be of age?" Tifa's lips pressed into a fine line.  
"What? Oh God, no." Dee downed the rest of her drink, "look, I'm sorry. I just haven't been out since we've gotten her. I didn't realize the quality of men here was so high! You're from Midgar, right?"

"Actually I'm from out west," the conversation began to lighten, "I came here when I was 15."

"Fifteen? Wow! Parents decided to open up a crazy brunch place?"

"No…" Tifa glanced at her fingers, "I just kind of ended up there."  
"What does - ?"

"Excuse me, ladies." A smooth voice interrupted, "but I couldn't help but notice that you are out of a drink."

Tifa stood up automatically so that the man with an undercut mane could slide into her seat. She gave Dee the signal to call if she needed anything, and gladly trotted to the bar.

"Gin and tonic, please." She ordered as she slid into the available bar seat. The drink came fast and she stirred for a few minutes. Dee would be fine. There's no chance she would leave the bar without announcing to the world her intentions for the night.

Any breastfeeding guide will warn that alcohol consumption during lactation is dangerous for the baby. Tifa wasn't pregnant long enough to start fully lactating, and her breasts stopped shortly after Skye's death. Knowing all of this, however, didn't stop that lurching in her stomach as she pressed the glass to her chin. She hadn't drank in so long, the mere smell of the gin threatened to push her over the edge.  
If circumstances were different, she wouldn't be here. Or she would still be here, but worried about feeding her big, blue eyed child with formula handled by the grubby hands of some grocery store clerk because she was stupid enough to ruin her own supply.

The music in the bar moved to a heavy, drum and throaty vocals - too loud for her liking. Across the room, she saw Dee in a hot conversation with the same strong-jawed man from earlier.

The last time Tifa drank alone was in the gold and marble schemed bar underneath the Golden Saucer. The lovebirds were an atmosphere above her.

Yuffie had originally invited her out to dinner, but after five minutes of Yuffie rambling on about how perfect Aeris' brown hair was and how Cloud picked the perfect girl for "makin' babies," Tifa feigned a stomach ache and escaped to the one place a 16-year-old couldn't follow.

The drinks were bright yellow and had exotic names with accent marks. She ordered the most difficult to pronounce and put it all on Cloud's room.

It had been the first time she had been rejected.

In retrospect, it wouldn't be the last time. Tifa pressed the glass to her lips and speculated that maybe the Golden Saucer was her watershed moment - the one time when all the warning signs in her mind and dying butterflies in her stomach merged with the liquor sliding down her esophagus.

He would never love her in that way.

A few blinks and the liquid in her glass disappeared. The bartender materialized from the shadows to refill her drink, but Tifa waved her hand.

"The tab's paid for," the man said, slipping the drink and accompanying napkin her way. He disappeared before she could question him. She unfolded the napkin and read the blue instructions.

 _Come see me on the patio_.

She turned her head towards the outside area. The moon and tiki torches made Tifa's heart warm. She didn't see any familiar faces in the crowd, yet she still made her way into the warm air.

She heard her name as soon as she stepped out onto the masonry. She scanned through again until the bodies gave way to a pink shirt and red hair. The arms came around her before she had the chance to say his name.

"Johnny!" She exclaimed when he swung her around. "You paid for me?"

"Of course," He held her at arm's' length, eyes locked on hers. "You shoulda told me you'd be here!"

"I didn't know you were in town!" She giggled. "Do you come here often?

"Come here often? I LIVE here!"

"Oh? The economy got you that bad?"

"This is my bar, Tif." He laughed. Tifa exploded with congratulations and he led her to a corner table equipped with a big bottle of champagne.

"This isn't the cheap stuff, right?"  
"Never. You taught me that the celebratory stuff is worth the pretty penny." He laughed as he struggled to open it. Tifa grabbed the bottle from his and popped the bottle with mastery. The crowd clapped when the cork flew into a customer's beer glass. Two plastic cups appeared.

"Classy." Johnny laughed at Tifa's comment and pointed out that she had never had crystal in her bar, either.

The two sipped slowly and caught up on Johnny's life. The last time she saw him, he was getting ready to propose to his round-faced girlfriend. He reported he had indeed married her and she ran bookkeeping for his precious treasure, The Tree House.

"Recognize anything about this place?" He asked after another cup of champagne. Tifa surveyed the rustic, natural feel to the patio, considered the natural wood bar and the neon lights inside, and listened to the beat heavy music. The realization hit her all at once.

"It's Nibelheim!"

"Bingo!" Johnny took another big swig and poured again. "After, well, everything… I came to Edge and opened this place up. We started a lot smaller, but it's really exploded since a few months ago."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah, and I really took from Seventh Heaven's business model."

"Serve everyone to a stupor?"  
"Temporary release, baby."

Tifa's heart warmed and she downed the rest of her champagne. They moved into small talk about the bar and what they had heard about other people from Nibelheim. Johnny entertained her with stories about working in a shipyard for a while when money got tight and his many pregnancy scares with his wife.

"So how's Cloud?"

"You know, I don't know." Tifa said after a huge swig of her drink. "We lost touch after a little while."  
"Damn," he mumbled. His arm brushed Tifa's hand as he refilled her drink.

She took the time to survey her drinking buddy. While he was the only redhead confident enough to wear a pink shirt, he had actually filled out to the point where any boyishness was virtually missing. If he weren't married, Tifa would have found him considerably attractive. She leaned forward to make a joke. When he laughed, she felt giddy from the smell of his alcohol laced breath.

"You know what I love about running a bar?" His voice deepened and he moved closer to her.

"What?" Her heart quickened.

"People watching." His hand brushed past her bare shoulder to point beyond the courtyard. Tifa followed his eyes to find Dee dancing with a man. A redheaded, ponytailed man.

* * *

For the first time in a very long while Cloud woke up alone. He often dreamt about this moment, for his usual bedfellows were too bony and kicked, or wanted to slide under his arm and never let go. Sometimes, when a wrist hit the strained vertebrae in his back, he wished he was back on top of the white sheets, next to the woman who managed to sleep perfectly still.

It looked like a typical night of his: liquor and wine bottles littered the floor and created a haphazard trail to his discarded clothes. Cloud moved and felt immediate discomfort in his back. His vision focused on his feet, which were propped on the armrest of a green, patched up couch. Cloud moved, but the sudden jerk of body parts made his head throb and flash with pain.

The night came back to him in splashes of alcoholic morning breath and aching joints. Based on the snores from the next room, Chuck was the lucky one to take him home.

After some difficult strains, Cloud finally stood up and crossed over to the window overlooking the seascape. The sight made him feel 50 years older.

He came to Costa del Sol with 1080 gil in his pocket and a plan: _forget everything that ever happened to you._ He repeated this mantra to himself as he wooed pretty blonde girls with insured trust funds and each sip of whiskey. So far, his plan worked.

"But it's been six months," he muttered aloud. His eyes stayed on the crashing waves.

His attention diverted to the sound of footsteps in his friend's room. Chuck enabled this lifestyle. Chuck made his back hurt and his head throb.

But he knew that wasn't true.

He changed quickly into a pair of cargo shorts and flip flops. He finished buttoning his shirt when he reached the outside of the grungy apartment complex. He walked to the outskirts of the city, to the small car lot near the highway.

He didn't waste any time going to the manager's office and rapping the door. The bald man, clearly flustered, opened the door to Cloud ordering himself in.

Within thirty minutes, he had negotiated a buy back price for the Fenrir with a free helmet thrown in the mix.

He hit the open road feeling lighter. Turning his back on the beautiful sunsets and bodies on the beach for the southern badlands of this continent. He headed Southeast: where his thoughts took him. He kept driving until he hit the dirt of North Corel.

Cloud remembered Barrett's house because Marlene took on a summer project of painting murals on the outside walls. Three knocks on the door and his stomach began to turn into knots. He paced forward to the front of the porch and considered leaving.

"Cloud?" The small voice came from the crack in the door.

"Hey Marlene." Cloud crossed back to her and knelt down to her level, "is Barrett around?"

Marlene gave him a look that he couldn't decipher. Her big brown eyes had always put him on edge. She looked up. Cloud followed her gaze until he was standing straight and looking at the burly chest of Barret Wallace himself.

"Good to see you." He felt uncomfortably polite.

"C'mon in, man." Barret swung the door open and left him a trail to follow.


	6. Flux

Chapter Six: Flux

* * *

Even Nibelheim looked at North Corel as a noble cause. Some of Cloud's earliest memories were big send offs of humanitarian teams to the mining town with hopes of "educating the youth and creating true industry." And this was during Shinra's hey-day - when people really thought that Mako production and SOLDIER were legitimate, inconsequential choices. He specifically remembered a summer when a 13-year-old Tifa went off for three weeks to help malnourished children in the region. Mostly, he remembered the dark blue tee shirt threatening to burst against her developing chest. He would've gone just to talk to her - but money was tight and his mom thought repainting the house would liven life up. That was the same year when that Johnny boy down the street implied Cloud's mom walked the North Corel mining camps during the off season in front of Tifa in the school cafeteria. That was a bad fight, but Johnny lost. That was all that mattered in the end.

The SOLDIER candidates reigning from North Corel never lasted. They were too rough around the edges: quick to cuss at their superior officers, quick to fight, and quick to drink. Their discharge papers read along the lines of insubordination, with the once in a while training causality telegram home. One time, Cloud had to deliver a deceased candidate's belongings to the remaining family in this area. When he came back a year ago, it hadn't changed.

It still hadn't changed.

The sun was rising and people were coming out of their houses, loudly cursing the morning with alcohol on their breaths and the sins of gambling on their fingers. Barret had blackout curtains installed, but nothing could protect Cloud's ears from the bellowing voice in the kitchen.

"Hot damn! It is another day!" Bacon sizzled into Cloud's nostrils, "Marlene, get up and dressed!"  
Cloud shuffled into the entryway of Barret's small kitchen.

"Damn, Marlene. You got ugly!" Cloud collapsed into a mismatched chair and flipped his friend off.

"I just need coffee." Cloud mumbled. Barret placed a steaming cup in front of Cloud's sleep-filled eyes. He took a large gulp.

"I said coffee. Not liquid turpentine." He looked over at the table for sugar or creamer.

"What you need is a run," Barrett said. Cloud looked up to face his friend before he took one defiant sip of the fresh brewed muddy water.

"And what you need is a decent coffee pot."

Around this time, Marlene hopped down the stairs and into her father's arm for a good morning hug. She had grown considerably in the past 8 months. Barrett had mentioned Dyne being a tall man, and it seemed she had that trait in her colt-like frame. Her hair had gotten a little longer, but Barrett wasn't one for hairdressing and would probably cut it again soon. Cloud let out a slight smile at the thought of his burly friend brushing and braiding waist length hair on a school night.

Perhaps it was because her father was so unversed at raising a daughter that Marlene displayed a maturity Cloud hadn't seen in some 19 year olds he'd encountered in the past few months. He watched her unfold herself from her father's arms and walk to the refrigerator and assemble a breakfast of yogurt, orange juice, and a helping of her dad's cheese eggs. She hadn't noticed Cloud until she unfolded her napkin over her lap and cut into her food.

"H-hi." Her hands fell inward on her plate. She hadn't been around the blonde much to be comfortable, but they did have a strong enough history together for her not to jump over to the other side of the table.

"Marlene, don't be shy!" Barret cajoled. "Cloud is like family, even with this beer gut."

Cloud rolled his eyes. Barrett continued.

"Y'know, I didn't start gaining weight until my late twenties. I guess that Shinra juice messes with the agin' process, too."  
"Maybe."

"Awwww. C'mon, Spikey! I'm just messin' with ya. Ain't as fun with the guys at the mine. All big and strong pride sh - stuff."

"The last eight months haven't been as good to me as it has some."

"Whatever, man."  
"How long are you going to stay, Cloud?" Marlene's small voice interjected.  
"As long as your dad will let me stay." Cloud spoke directly to the girl sitting adjacent to him.

"Lookin' for work?" Barrett cut in. He seemed uncomfortable: Cloud never asked for favors, but he hoped with their history his friend could cut him a break.

"Actually, yeah." Cloud finished off the rest of his drink. "I kinda…"

"Say no more. I'll get you in at the mine. Mind you, it'll be back breaking work but you look like you could use every ounce of exercise you can get."  
"I haven't put on that much weight, have I?"

Barrett snorted.

Marlene began to pick up the empty dishes. Cloud helped her when the pile became too big. He followed her to the kitchen sink and watched as she pulled a stepping stool from the cabinet below and position it parallel to the faucet.

"Can I help with anything?"

"Um… You could dry them and place them on the dish rack."

They worked for ten minutes in silence. Sometimes Cloud would accidently knock Marlene in the side with his elbow. He would fumble through an apology, but she wouldn't answer him. They kept like this for five more minutes until Barrett burst through the door.

"Hey, man. I got the supervisor to agree to an interview if you can get your fat ass down there in twenty minutes."

"Yeah, I'm on it." Cloud wiped his hands and turned to Marlene, "well, I guess my work here is done."

"For now." She answered, "are you going to shower?"

Cloud let out a small laugh.

"Do I stink?"

"A little."  
"Well, I guess he'll have to put up with it. Won't he?" Cloud turned to exit.

"Hey, Cloud?"

"Yeah?"

"When am I going to get more flowers?"

"Maybe soon, Marlene."

* * *

Days off were such a wonderful treat.

The early afternoon sun filtered through Tifa's thin curtains, casting an ethereal glow over the bare bones apartment. The consistent white walls had come to grow on Tifa in the past month, and she enjoyed all of the natural light in her bedroom.

However, the sun wasn't waking her up this morning. She woke early to mull over all that had happened the night before.

Reno was back. Rude was back. She'd had a miscarriage and cut off all contact from her former life. Yet, once again, the Turks were there shadowing her every push forward.

From across the hallway, she could hear sheets shifting and the groans of the mattress. Dee had finally woken. She came through Tifa's small hallway looking like a blur of blonde hair and smeared makeup.

"Good morning!" Tifa offered a small plate to her. Dee began to devour the small, sugary donuts before she could grip around the ceramic edges.

"These are arguably the best things I've ever had in my mouth."

"I wouldn't get too cocky there." Dee crossed over into the living room and collapsed on Tifa's tiny couch.

"Ugh… Why did I drink so much last night?" The question hung in the air. Tifa scrubbed old pots and pans.

"You were certainly enjoying yourself last night."

"My beer goggles are the _worst_. Thanks for saving me from the redheaded skeez last night."

"My pleasure. I'm surprised you can even remember that."

"Docking someone out on a crowded dance floor can sober the best of us." Tifa grinned to ignore the knot in her stomach.

Reno, who always had a lackadaisical attitude around him, was completely inebriated the night before. He hadn't recognized the brunette when she cut in between the two. When he wouldn't let Dee go was when she resorted to physical violence. She knew the Turks knew her punches. Surely Reno, a master at controlling his vices for the sake of professionalism, wouldn't have allowed himself to get that drunk. He should have recognized her.

"Tif. You ok?" Dee's head cocked. She was learning on the entry to the kitchen, studying Tifa continuously scrubbing a pot.

"Um. Yeah!" Tifa began, adjusting to wipe her hands on her sweat pants. "Just grease stains."

She poured herself a cup of coffee and moved to the living room with her friend. The apartment felt small now with two occupants. Her leather loveseat groaned as two pairs of legs tangled over each other.

"But I think the important question: who was that guy you were talking to last night?"

"You mean the one with the giant band on his left finger?"

"Formalities."

"Dee!" Tifa knocked her knee against her friend's shin.

"What? Oh my God, Tif. It was obvious he was so into you."  
"Johnny and I have history. That's all."

"His name is Johnny?" Dee sat up intrigued.

"We grew up together, smart ass."

"Hmm…" Dee's eyebrow shot in response to Tifa's eye roll. "That didn't look like childhood memories."

"I thought you were drunk?"

"Not that drunk! I walk outside to go find you canoodling in the corner."

Tifa let out an exasperated sigh and fell back into the armrest.

"Johnny was special for a while there." She took a small sip of her coffee, "Y'know… the first."  
"I knew it, you secret keeper." Dee pressed into a forward fold. "No one talks that close and stays friends."

"Talking close didn't make us - whatever." Tifa giggled.

"No. Go on."

"We were sixteen and stupid. His family relocated here and put me up for a month or so until I had the means to move out."

"And then? Did you keep seeing him?"

"Sort of. I got busy with my own life. I was working full time, helping friends out, trying to make a measly living under those damn tax laws. I was 20 by the time I even thought about dating again."

"And you didn't try him again?"

"No. There was someone else in both of our lives." Tifa stirred her spoon in the light brown liquid before adding, "I could've convinced him to come back though… It would've saved me a lot of heartache."

Her voice was too low for Dee to hear her. She was in her own soliloquy about her current fling back in Rocket Town. His name was George or Val or something.

Johnny had been affectionate. Their first date was a train ride through the slums because he couldn't afford the fare to get off. They shared their first kiss in-between sector 4 and 5. She loved him like any first love: selfishly and euphorically. She got caught up in his kiss one night and he held her close as they walked down the newfound path of intimacy. They kept this on and off connection until that one rainy night when that blonde showed up in her bar.

"So, then, who's Cloud?" Dee's words shattered Tifa's reminiscing.

"I-I'm sorry?"

"Cloud. You mentioned him in your sleep last night." Dee caught a piece of her velvet hair in between her fingertips and studied the ends as she spoke. Tifa sprang forward into a seated position.

"He." She hugged her knees together. "He was a mistake."

"The best of us make them."

"Not like that."

"Yeah … Hey, does your shower work?"

Tifa sprang up to direct the young blonde to the towels and small bathroom. After the shower steam began filling the small living area did Tifa settle back on the couch with her lukewarm cup of coffee.

It had been four years since she had even heard his voice when the blonde knocked on her door. It was raining that night and the bar was completely vacant. She closed up early after a phone call from Johnny asking her to come over and chase the rain away. She moved out the door faster than the butterflies in her stomach when she crashed into the solid chest and the citrusy musk. She breathed his name and forgot about anyone in his life. He slept the whole night while she paced and cleaned the bar. At 1 a.m., Johnny called asking if she was alive.

"Something came up," she squeaked before apologizing.

He didn't call after that.

Present day Tifa moved from the couch and picked up the dirty clothes hamper. She dropped it in the laundry room with such a careless demeanor that it fell over and expelled its contents. She tried to hurry to pick them up, but she stopped at the pair of black pants from the night before. Tifa followed her ritual of pants cleaning by examining the pockets before disposing of them. She treated this like she did her laundry basket until her hand hit something in the back pocket.

A napkin with a 7-digit number written on it in the same handwriting as the note the night before.

"He's married," she scolded herself for even thinking about calling him. By the time she folded the note, Dee came out of the shower with wet hair and in her black shorts and red shirt from the day before.

"Hey, I think I'm going to head out." She said, holding her own PHS. "Mom's left, like, a gazillion voice messages."  
She bounced out the door after Tifa's goodbye. Her hand felt heavy with the napkin.

He was married. She had her chance and she blew it on the same person who got her pregnant.

But he was good and kind to her.

"What could one lunch hurt?" She asked, realizing she sounded the same as those girls in the gym who wanted ice cream without gaining weight. She flipped her PHS open to dial the 7 digit numbers already committed to memory.

But the phone wouldn't emit its usual light blue light. She'd forgotten to put it on charge. She set the phone on the small dresser in her bedroom and caught her reflection in the process.

Tifa had grown up pretty, it was something she was reminded of daily up until she decided to break it off with Johnny those eleven months ago. She called him the day after her missed date and told him that they had run their course: it was physical and she wanted to focus on herself for the remainder of her early twenties. The next day she thought she had lost any chance of happiness as the blonde parasite looked directly at Barret and told him to stay strong. Moments after the aftermath of the Sector 5 reactor explosion did Tifa realize that he'd left her no words to live the rest of her life by. Just like the night before he had left her hanging and rolled away from her one last time. She went to the Honeybee Inn desperate and she saw her first lover drunk on the steps, barely recognizing her as she tried to find her audition spot for Don Corneo. She'd never felt smaller than in that moment. Johnny was good and gentle. He'd given the best first time any girl could hope. The carriage took her to those tacky, ribboned doors and, just for one second, she considered letting it all go and running back into Johnny's arms. Instead she clenched her jaw and followed the coordinator into the dungeon and waited.

Her prince charming came swooping in in purple silk and a fresh wig in moments. What she didn't realize was that she was his steed and that lush brunette with the green eyes would saddle up on her with him ride off into the sunset.

"It's not nice to judge the dead." She whispered to her reflection. Grabbing a wooden comb, Tifa manipulated the flyaway hair to be smooth and shiny. She refused to be a catalyst ever again.

Tree House was one of the first bars in Edge to operate during the day. It wasn't that the liquor laws were that strict in the emerging city: rather, the doubt that this city would last much longer than a year was high. This placed represented Johnny though: eternally optimistic and the ability to adapt.

The interior during the day had a much laid back atmosphere than the night before. Gentle, drum-based music pulsated throughout the wooden room. The doors and windows stayed open to invite the warm autumn air into the establishment.

Tifa felt comfortable in jeans and a green tee shirt. Her hair stayed smooth and shiny from the walk to the bar from her apartment. She sat directly at the bar and ordered a club soda and asked to see the beer list.

While the bar was distinctly Nibelheim, it was also distinctly Johnny, too. The man had a fondness for trivia books and collected tidbits of information for a hobby. Behind the bar, she noticed books with titles like: _500 Wine Spots You've Missed_ ; _Tales and Tails: Dogs Retelling Classic Stories;_ and a plethora of world record books. Tifa had bought him three of the books on the bar's shelves.

The first world record book she had picked up in a second hand bookstore in North Corel. She was on a humanitarian mission there and promised to bring the redhead back something memorable. On the inside, she'd scribbled the date she bought the book and presented it to him on his birthday. He promised her he would keep it forever. Later that day, Johnny came over with two black eyes and asked Tifa to read him the first few records.

"Excuse me," she began when the bartender refilled her drink. "Where's the bar owner?"

"Gone for the day. His wife is having an ultrasound. First baby."  
"Then I'll have the darkest beer you have." She pushed the menu back toward him and raked her hand through her hair. The glass came to her cold and frothy. She downed most of it in one gulp.

"Whoa, there."

Tifa closed her eyes and exhaled. "As if this day can't get any worse."

Rude slid in the bar stool beside her and ordered Tifa's drink for himself. The sipped his own dark liquid slower.

"Is this the Turks' new hangout?"  
"I don't know what you mean." He didn't face her, but she knew he could see her look of disbelief. He continued to sip his drink. Tifa followed suit.

"Checking out the competition?"

"No. Just enjoying my day off."

"So you're still working at that family affair."

"You're drinking there, too. So I guess it can't be that safe."

"Ye of little faith."

Tifa laughed in spite of herself, but felt herself shift away from the solid man.

"A childhood friend of mine works here. I was hoping to run into him."

"I see."

"Not like that."

"I wasn't implying." He flashed her a small smile. Tifa fidgeted in her seat further. She hadn't seen him in his Turk suit since … well, since she'd seen him again. Today he was in khakis and a blue plaid rolled up to his elbows.

"What do you want, Rude?" The question came abrupt. Tifa set her glass down and faced him head on as she asked. He turned to face her. Not wearing his sunglasses, for once, Tifa noticed the gold flecks sprinkled around his honey-colored eyes.

"To see you, Tifa." He was unnerving, but Tifa couldn't give up quite yet.

"And that's it?"

"No. There's much more." He downed the rest of his drink before speaking, "come see me tomorrow night."

The invitation caught Tifa off guard and her empty glass spun out of her hand.

"I - I can't. I have to work tomorrow night."

"Fine then. See me tonight."

"Sure thing." She whispered. A pen appeared from his pocket and he scribbled down an address on to her napkin. He got up before she could utter another word, leaving her the only patron in a bar filled with nostalgia and confusion.

She felt sick.


	7. Habits

_Major, major trigger warning at the end of this chapter._

* * *

Chapter 7: Habits

* * *

Two hours ago, Tifa entered a bar with full intentions of getting a man to spend the afternoon with her so she could reclaim a chance of her youth back. Instead, Rude, a Turk of all people: a representative of her former mortal enemy, asked to meet her in the city center. He asked her on a date. And she didn't say no.

She had an hour left to get ready in order to fulfill her promise to see him there. She felt so underprepared. Her mind chastised her when she caught a glimpse of her reflection or pulled at the knots at the end of her hair: mothers don't date. Mothers are supposed to stay home and up at all hours with a baby suffering from colic. Mothers don't try to squeeze their post-baby bodies into black tanktops and jeans destroyed for the sake of fashion.

In the midst of her beginning existential chaos, Tifa caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The bags under her eyes weren't as noticeable in the muted light.

She wished she hadn't chopped her hair off, she wished she'd had her old wardrobe… Hell, she wished she could grasp some idea of what was going on right now.

The thoughts flooded back: Babies don't die in the arms of their mothers. Mothers find the baby's father and live happily ever after. Mothers don't plan to ruin marriages.

Tifa pulled the old wooden comb in her hair as she ordered to herself to calm down.

"You're not a mother." She said directly to the sad-eyed reflection. "You are someone who had the opportunity and, thankfully, it was taken away from you."

But even she didn't believe that.

When she tried, Tifa could see a shell of the beauty bar patrons and childhood loves claimed she had. Her walk home involved stopping by a drug store and picking up some dewy foundation and peach blush. She applied it to her face after reading the back of the packages to make sure she still knew how to do it. Her mind began to wonder if her boxy boy shorts and accompanying bra was good enough for a date.

"Oh my God." She moaned to herself and pushed the makeup aside. She took a long look at her reflection, now polished thanks to the help of the uppity colors Wutai glow and Dawn's break, before repeating: "you will not sleep with him. You will not sleep with him. You will not sleep with him."

She looked back over at her defiant reflection before stripping off her shirt and jeans and replacing her sporty lingerie with one of her maternity bras and matching underwear. After putting her clothes back on she turned around and stuck her tongue out at her image for good measure. She glanced at her watch before slipping on her shoes.

"Now or never." She whispered into the lukewarm air. The sun was beginning to set and she remembered how much Turks loved coming out at night.

* * *

The possibility that this could just be set up for her to get jumped by those who might be seeking revenge dawned on Tifa as the truck key slipped from the ignition. She ruffled her hair a little bit more before securing her purple purse to her side body and stepping out of her truck. She took a breath into the fall air and realized the she had been shaking the entire time.

Edge was still an emerging city. Funded by refugees and other third party sources, it made a great haven for those who didn't commit Shinra's sins against the planet. City center was one of the first areas planned for the city and one of the fastest growing with small shops and restaurants for citizens just to forget about disease, destruction, and other things. In a few months, they were projecting to finish a nice little statue or water feature to liven the place up even more. Tifa found it pleasant enough, especially under the circumstances.

She stepped forward. The Friday night crowd consistently grew from when she saw the center earlier in the afternoon. Over-bronzed girls traveled in groups to different bars and schools of men followed them with their eyes. Tifa moved away from the hordes and laid back against a small wall near the parking lot.

It appeared to her as she settled into her spot that Rude hadn't picked a spot to meet. She picked at the imaginary pilling on the end of her shirt. She cracked her knuckles in case he came with others.

Tifa couldn't completely contain her excitement. It had been so long since she had been on a date - let alone in the special company of a man. She smiled at the thought of her father seeing her now. Even though she lost both of her parents early, she had her dad around long enough to know exactly what boys were after. Her own martial arts training was a bonus to keep her far from boy crazy. By 13, Tifa boasted wins over some of the strongest males in Nibelheim. Seeing them wince in pain from her own blow lessened the effect of their strong jaws and intense eyes on her. She had always been popular for her easy going attitude, cool looking house, and, to be frank, well developing body, but she was also the single father's dream daughter with her relatively conservative wardrobe and high work ethic.

It also helped that her school crush would have been social suicide.

It had been no secret of her father's disdain for Cloud. He blamed the blonde for costing three months of prime training after she broke her leg. Tifa never bothered to correct her father's assumptions after her tenth birthday. Cloud's mom wasn't well-liked in the area, and it just made sense for the town to regard him as the outcast.

The irony was never lost on Tifa when she carried her own baby that she was walking in Ms. Strife's well-worn shoes. However, Kalm was much more accepting of single mothers than Nibelheim ever would be.

Originally, Tifa found Cloud, aptly nicknamed Chocobo Brain by Johnny and a few others, fascinating. He came to town after elementary school friendships had been established. There simply wasn't enough room for him in anyone's play group. She always made an effort to smile to him and bring his mother fresh cookies when her father would let her bake. She hadn't thought more of him than a pretty thing to look at. Then her mom died, and Tifa couldn't handle the grief. She regarded him as an angel after that.

The two continued to run in their own circles - one more full than the other. Tifa met him on the roof on late Saturday nights. They talked about their futures and their family problems. The nights began frequently - a Sabbath for the two. As they grew older, however, the nights became scarce and then a thing of memories.

Then, when she was 13, he threw a rock at her window and summoned her down to the water tower. He told her the news in short, gasping breaths. He was leaving for SOLDIER - like all the rest of the boys in the town. But he was going to be different, he assured her, he was going to make it. Be just like Sephiroth. He promised she'd read about him in the paper.

She smiled and urged him to keep talking. As he spoke, Tifa prayed for autumn to stay forever.

But spring came without care. Tifa skipped school that day and claimed a headache when her father came to ask. She couldn't say goodbye. She thought her master plan had worked. She resigned herself to documentaries about SOLDIER and glanced at schools on that continent. Tifa gorged in chocolate and planned the letters she'd write to all of them.

At 11 that night, there was a knock at her window. She almost didn't answer the window, but she swore she could feel his eyes counting every strand of her hair.

"You weren't in school today," Cloud began. He perched himself on his ankles on the tile of her roof. He motioned for her to come out and sit beside him.

"I had a headache." She offered as she took her spot next to him. He helped steady her body with his hand on her back. Her face warmed from the contact.

"You weren't going to say goodbye?" She committed his face to memory as he spoke. Mostly, she studied his dull blue eyes. Soon, she reminded herself when she blinked, they would intensify and change to a much brighter, scary even, blue color with a green tint.

"I said goodbye." She reminded him with a gentle push, "last autumn, remember?"

"That doesn't count. You know that." Cloud stared at his feet. Tifa felt her heart break. This … boy, who looked and acted like a kicked puppy more times than she cared to remember, really cared about her.

She leaned over to brush his hair with her fingers. When he looked up she laid a kiss on his pink lips. His hands latched on her hips nervously.

"We're not going to fall." She breathed onto his skin. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to remember what she had seen about kissing in movies. His lips had just parted to welcome her prodding tongue when her father's throat clearing had her push back and Cloud stumbling over back to his own roof.

"I don't like that boy." He growled when Tifa was safe back inside.

"He's leaving tomorrow." She informed him in a wavering voice.

"Good riddance."

Her father died thinking Cloud a bad seed. Yet, here she was, about to meet up with one of the most spoiled fruits.

A cleared throat alerted Tifa. She felt her joints spaz before focusing her attention on Rude. He regarded her with a smile.

"You came."  
"I always keep my promises." He looked good in a pair of tight black jeans and a white shirt. As per his character, donned sunglasses and those earrings.

"So … is this the part where you kill me?"

"Not quite. There's a cool dive bar just to the left of here, if you're interested."

"Sure." She shrugged playfully. He smiled and began walking beside her. She kept her pace aligned with his, trying not to giggle every time their hands bumped.

He led her down the main street through the growing crowd of people, his hand on the small of her back - touching the whisper of skin unguarded by her tank top. Tifa tried to hide her shudder and blame it on the brisk, autumn air; but there was something electric in those moments of contact. It was unadulterated by useless words staying on the tongues of both parties.

They indulged in the obligatory small talk while waiting for their drink and food orders. Rude complimented Tifa's choice of beer. Tifa listened and participated in the blur when it felt appropriate. Thankfully, the two had particular tastes in alcohol. For half an hour, they debated the different types of beer.

"The bar of yours isn't as well stocked as the last one." He pointed out when she finished her point about wheat beer being far superior to corn-based beer. Their food had been brought out and Tifa played with her fries as she answered.

"The owner feels that a family owned place shouldn't serve to begin with." She stopped to chew and swallow her food, "but, if we _must_ have one then it should only serve the bare minimum." She finished her sentence mocking Vanessa's deep voice. The outer edges of Rude's lips turned up. Tifa took a moment to marvel at their fullness before elaborating on the plight to get the bar at the restaurant.

"Y'know, you came the first day it opened. I'm very grateful for the 10 gil tab you had."  
"You gave me the most expensive shit on purpose?"

"You asked for the best." She pointed a fry in his direction before eating it.

"I'm sure your original place had a good insurance policy on it." The conversation took a turn for the serious.

"It did…" Tifa began slowly, chewing over how to phrase the story. "It had a full policy, and I did collect it when the banks opened back up about three months ago. Reopening is a pain with licensing and all, and I don't know if I want to stay here long. This town is such a flight risk right now." _A monthly mortgage on a building also costs about three months of formula._ She added internally.

"Soon, right?"

"Maybe." She rubbed the back of her head and glanced around the wooden paneling of the room.

"I think you should," He said with a frankness that set Tifa back in her seat. He swallowed the rest of his beer. "I know we had our differences, but _Seventh Heaven_ was a soft spot for all of us."

Tifa tried to ignore the prickling feeling in her skin when she remembered who "us" entailed.

"How is everybody?" The question was vague enough to avoid the random passing conversations. "I mean, obviously you're out of a job now. But have you kept up with anyone?"

"I don't know." Rude pushed his glass to the end of the table. "I went my own way to figure everything out, considering."  
"Figure everything out?"  
"AVALANCHE wasn't the only group affected by Shinra." She saw the playful glint in his eyes, but Tifa didn't feel like smiling.

"There was never actual confirmation that I was part of that team." Her eyes glanced up coyly to his chiseled face. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses. She studied his Adam's apple, and the veins stretching from his strong neck down to the beginnings of his shirt.

"We had enough of an idea to go on." He gave her an actual smile. His teeth looked like fresh pearl caught from the sea. "Plus, you had a tendency to get caught at the right place."

"So… you're completely done? No Reno?" She glanced down at her fingers, "what does that mean?"

"It means I'm taking all of my overdue holiday time to figure everything out." He laughed, "I had enough saved up to get a place here - after the banks opened again, of course. But I took a lot of time off to figure out the next phase of my life."  
"How much time?"

"Indefinite."

Tifa jerked as the words left his lips. Her wrist knocked against his empty glass and the sound of it shattering on the floor startled them both. She was on her knees first to pick up the glass, but Rude and the waiter waved her off.

"Sorry." She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled.

"Did you cut your hair?" He studied her with an intensity that made her squirm. He hadn't noticed until now?"  
"Yeah. 9 inches." She laughed. "I just needed a change, you know?"  
"Right. I needed change, too."

"It's healthy."

He agreed.

"So…" She started again after a few pauses, "I've noticed you around in working clothes before … so… what are you up to?" The question made her feel like a five year old struggling with language.

"I took a job with a family friend. Construction. Mindless work, but it's a welcome relief."

"Enough to last a lifetime?"

"Unless something better pops up."

They continued their conversation by observing random things around the room. Rude finally paid for both of them, despite Tifa's protests, and then offered to walk her to her truck. Tifa accepted, but only so she could see if he had tampered with anything on the vehicle.

"I'm sorry." She began once they got to her truck, "this is really weird."  
"It is." He agreed.

"You came out of nowhere and I had a lot of fun, but I'm trying to figure everything out."  
"Tifa," he began, his arms uncrossed. "I came to Edge with all intents and purposes of leaving in two weeks. I get a job because of a family connections, so I use the day to celebrate by buying a brand new, non-Shinra owned PHS. You were in the same shop and run out like a scare mouse. My first week goes great, I celebrate with a drink. I just so happened to pick your bar. I pick a different bar after a small promotion, and you're there.

When I first saw you, I thought you were beautiful and strong. I couldn't make a move because of choices we made at different times. Fate has us both in the same place. We're better than where we work, we're better than this town, but we're stuck here due to our own stupid choices. Asking you out tonight was the smartest decision I've made so far. If it's weird, then so be it. But I was tired of pining over the same raven-haired girl and not making a move because of my career or your friends. They're both out of the picture."

"How did you know my friends are out of the picture?"

His hands traveled to her shoulders, gently cupping them.

"Because I've never known a beautiful girl to drink alone."

Tifa was the one to close the space between them in a solid kiss. His hands moved to her hips and pulled her closer, but she was the one to slip her tongue into his mouth. The alcohol remaining on his breath made the moment that much sweeter.

She broke away as soon as her mind processed her choices. She remembered her maternity underwear, her pledge to stay celibate for the moment, and the man-she-was-kissing's recent past. Her lower lip caught between her teeth and she regarded him one more time. His honey skin and that tight shirt looked ravishing in her lust-filled haze.

Shit. Her underwear.

"My place. You can follow me, but give me a ten minute gap to clean up." She exhaled.

He nodded.

The drive home was a blur to Tifa. Blood pooled into other regions of her body, making controlling the wheel and thinking straight difficult for her.

Her place was minimalist enough that all she needed to do was place some dishes back in the kitchen. She slipped back into her original red, sporty set.

Rude had come into the apartment after she straightened up the main area. She left the door cracked for him, and he closed it rather loudly. She reasoned it was so she knew he was in there.

Tifa knew her body could turn any guy on - big boobs and long legs against creamy white skin was an aphrodisiac universally acknowledged. However, this man was the first to get her going since Cloud and Johnny. In reality, she could do it. But her heart fluttered when she thought about actually, well, _doing it_. She hadn't been with anyone since Skye's conception. She felt like she was betraying her family.

Her nonexistent family. Her mind chastised her heart again.

She sucked in a breath full of air before adjusting her bangs one more time.

"Now or never, Lockhart." She laughed as she broke the earlier promise made with her reflection.

She pushed through the door, leaving any thought of Cloud to run down the sink.


	8. A Bruised Heart

_A/n: Welcome to my first Cloud Solo chapter._

* * *

Chapter 8: One Bruised Heart

* * *

 _Hey, that's Cloud's line! '...It's too dangerous, I can't get you involved...' Blah blah blah._

Cloud had the same dream every night: two green eyes he'd never see again looking up at him, laughing at his seriousness. He could have stared at them forever, for now he could settle for 6.5 hours once a day.

North Corel had done wonders for his health in the last three weeks. Barret helped him get a job - not in the mines like originally planned, but helping to build houses for displaced workers and their families. It had been a project the small town had been saving up for the past 5 years. Only recently did the money come flowing in from an anonymous donor. Four days a week Cloud lifted, hammered, and reviewed two bedroom homes.

The work did wonders on his tired body. Not only did he feel more rested in the mornings, but his former muscle-driven frame started to outline against his now scrawny shoulders and slimming stomach. Barret had been right about the state of his gut, but eating three proper meals a day in combination with the walk from home to work and the heavy lifting would surely make that problem a thing of the past.

He pushed out of the bed, stopping only for the small twinge in his back. It was a former wound from his Shinra days only made worse by recent years and a ton of alcohol.

"Can't win them all, Strife." He muttered before slipping a white shirt over his renewing body. He had an hour and a half before his shift - a late start for him. He pushed out the door after buttoning up his pants and slipping on his work boots. Barret and Marlene left much earlier for her daycare, but the man always made sure to keep the coffee pot on for Cloud. Even if he thought the liquid tasted like rusty pipes.

It heated up and poured well into his cup. Cloud drank it straight black - a habit that had to develop after living under North Corel rations for this long. He took a seat next to the bench by the window and reflected on how much he hated silence. He moved to Costa Del Sol to escape that silence, but craved the familiarity of old friends. North Corel leveled him out, yet our best enemies catch up to us when we're content.

He couldn't define the "it," those idiosyncrasies unknown to his personality until those triggers emerged. Cloud did know what caused his moods, and he tried to avoid them at any cost. Silence was a big one - he hadn't slept alone in the past four months because of it.

She was silent the entire time.

A crunching, crashing sound woke Cloud up. He looked down to see blood pooling around his darkening knuckles. The hot coffee pooled into the open skin and traced his veins. He didn't suck in breath as the liquid seared his skin. In fact, he welcomed the feeling.

He went to the clinic in Kalm after he found himself living alone. The doctor he visited in Kalm explained that silence triggered his condition because of his mind was still confused about reality. She offered to refer him to a psychiatrist, but Cloud never made the call. The way he figured, this was his struggle to bear because of his inadequacies on the battlefield, in his relationships, everything.

Barret opening his home up to him just made it that much more uncomfortable. Even with his new physical pastimes, the silence still lingered and his chest still tightened when the nightmares came. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he wished the bones would just splinter into his heart and finish it all. He knew fate would never be that kind and he would never muster up the nerve to take anything into his own hands.

"I-I'm just shaky." He spoke to the still air, "I haven't eaten anything." The articles and books suggested talking through his feelings and try to muster his demons into simple sentences. The problem Cloud found with this tactic was the rationalization that comes with facing uncomfortableness head on. He pushed off his seat and crossed over to the kitchen sink, rubbing the coffee and blood off the floor into his socks. He washed his wound in steaming water and wrapped it in paper towels as he put the remains of the mug to rest. Cloud pushed out of the kitchen when he found the sunlight blinding.

Barret's house was a collection of mismatched furniture and wood paneling. He moved into the small place shortly after Meteorfall and the boxes still laid half filled in the hallway. In some ways, it comforted Cloud. That is, until he tripped over a box in his wandering path. The contents burst out in a wave. Photographs. He kneeled down to rectify his second accident of the day.

Some images were unfamiliar - black and white photographs of tall people Cloud assumed to be family and more blurry, sepia toned ones of friends, Marlene's parents, and the North Corel bunch before another Shinra accident. He placed them in the box gingerly, noticing how the quality got better as the pile became smaller.

He stopped when he saw her.

Her hair stopped at her elbows, but was still the rich, dark hue that almost didn't look real. His mother insisted she dyed it. Cloud knew better. She'd never waste her time with something as trivial as hair color.

The door opened and closed and he heard footsteps approach, but Cloud was frozen staring at that lost piece of time.

"Man, I didn't see you there!" Barret exclaimed as his shin crashed into Cloud's back. He flinched for a moment, and then straightened up. He tucked the photo into his pocket.

"I keep breaking things here," Cloud exhaled a small laugh. Barret arched an eyebrow at him before calling him some variation of crazy.

"I found your photo box."  
"Yeah, and I noticed you takin' one of my prized possessions. Stealin' memories now?"

"Somehow I think that a little less annoying than Materia." They shared a laugh. Barret motioned for Cloud to hand him the picture. He stared it for a moment before shaking his head.

"She was so young when I first met her. Fifteen years and alone in the slums."

"You've known her for three years?" Cloud tried to rationalize the timeline.

"Tifa? Hell yes. I saved her life. She got involved with that disease-ridden Corneo. She wasn't a Honey Bee worker," he interjected when he caught Cloud's widening eyes. "Not even that jackass would stoop as low as children. She was working the bar. It isn't much better in Wall Market than in 7, but she was resourceful."

"How?" Cloud didn't bother to catch himself.

"The men would leer outside the bars for the waitresses and bartenders because they were up for grabs 24/7. You have to pay for the bees. I came in one time with an idiot business partner interested in funding AVALANCHE with a hideout, shoulda known he was trouble when he wanted to talk contracts over a cigarette in the rain. In actuality, he was waitin' on her. To make it short, she punched before he could grab and I walked her home after we disposed of his unconscious body in a dumpster. Of course, by that time I secured a bar in Sector 7 slums and had a new opening for a bartender."

"Room and board included?"

"Damn straight." Barret waited before adding, "you had two perfectly good options."

"It's hard to judge which one is the best."

Barret stayed quiet.

"I haven't seen her in nine months."

"She ain't answerin' her phone, either. Marlene's been asking about her, but I guess she moved on to bigger things. Didn't y'all shack up together?"  
"Not like that. She didn't need me."

Barret nodded before stooping down to pick up the rest of the photos. Cloud noticed that the photo was back in his own chapped hands. He pocketed it again and moved to get ready for the day's challenges. Before entering his room, Cloud turned over his shoulder and back at the small pile of photos.

"You got any of her?"

Barret didn't answer. He had always been a bad liar.

It was when the door shut that Cloud heard Barret's voice dance through the hallway.

"Once an idiot, always an idiot."


	9. Playing with Fire

Chapter 9: Playing with Fire

One time Tifa woke up next to a man. She found him gorgeous in that devastating kind of way and thought herself to be the luckiest girl in the world. This man didn't whisper good morning or regard her with his intense blue eyes. He shifted onto his feet and left while dressing. She suffered a hay rash for three weeks and a pregnancy. The older she got, the more she regretted it.

This time Tifa woke up next to another man and the sunlight filtered through her thin curtain to give her bedroom a soft glow. The gray cotton sheets comforted her and the pillows cradled her head. Most importantly, the man she woke up to tangled his limbs in hers and breathed deeply. He smelled of musk mixed with her vanilla body spray.

The thought of another pregnancy ran through her mind until she spotted the used condom hanging over her wastebasket. She entertained the idea of Skye still being alive. Would she have cried and interrupted her mother's adult games? Would she have to stop in the middle to feed her? Would Rude be less willing if there had been baby toys across the floor?

She stretched the thoughts away. Skye would only live in her memory. The thought saddened and edified Tifa. It could be her ultimate secret that she shared on her dying day. Her closing chapter to a part of her life filled with longing and rejection.

It was her ace in the game against that green-eyed thief.

The solid arms looped around her bare breasts moved down to her stomach. The legs tangled with hers stretched themselves free. Tifa turned to look at her bedfellow just as his dark eyes blinked awake. She watched him study the same things she had and piece the events of last night together. Shock turned into satisfaction. He hugged her tighter to him and nuzzled her neck before pulling away and looking at her in the way that every girl wants.

"Good morning, beautiful." He whispered, pulling her back to him and taking a deep breath in her matted hair.

"Good morning, yourself." She giggled as the memories flooded back into her mind. The sheet covered the most sensitive parts of Rude and Tifa's respective bodies, yet this scene still felt wildly intimate.

She moved into his arms and wrapped herself further around his strong frame. He captured her bruised lips in a kiss. Tifa opened her mouth to him and squeezed his strong muscles with her own limbs. His hands worked into her hair, pinning her down between his skin and the sheets.

* * *

"You have thoroughly ruined my hair for the day." Tifa looped the haphazard wavy locks through a baseball cap.

"You're complaining?" Rude had a white towel wrapped around his waist from their shared shower.  
"No. Just observing." She straightened the straps of her razorback shirt once she finished with her hair. She slipped on a pair of long shorts and laced up her shoes while Rude buttoned up his own pants. They danced around each other while studying the other's morning habits. Granted, it was more of Rude watching her since he didn't have any of the things she'd picture he'd have while getting ready for the day.

The two shared small kisses as she hurried to straighten her bed and throw dirty clothes into the hamper. The condom from last night wasn't forgotten, either. Rude laughed when she picked it up and disposed of it in her kitchen trash can.

"I can take that out if you want." He offered, but Tifa shook her head.

"This is my place; my trash."

"But I made it."

"You're a guest!"

They fell back into their own silent routines. Rude sat on the couch as he laced up his workboots and Tifa applied lotion to her post-sex skin. She wondered if her swollen lips would escape Dee's eyes. Not that she really cared, though.

Tifa ran the palm through the pony tail once more, hoping the sweat would maybe tame the unusual bumps and knots in her hair.

A year and a half ago, vanity was one of Tifa's favorite sins. She'd never outright admit it, but the double-takes, wolf whistles, and other types of praise was a rush she'd never get over. Barret once hypothesized she liked the leering eyes because she was used to being the biggest fish in Nibelheim.

She knew the old sayings about pregnancy - it stole youth, beauty, and vigor - daughters were the worst thieves of time.

Now, she stood daughter-less in the company of a man who found her more beautiful than ever before.

"Can I see you tonight?" The question hung in the air with uncertainty. Tifa ran her fingers through her hair one more time to help separate the thoughts in her head and the answer waiting on her lips.

"Can you wait until 11?" She crossed the room and pulled him into a hug.

"For you?" He whispered onto her forehead, "I'd wait a lifetime."

She broke away from his arms and stumbled out the door. The keys came out of her pocket with no problem and they slid into the ignition to stir the truck into a smooth purr. The rest of the drive to work was smooth road and racing heart. She chided herself for her slut moments but delighted at the memories of the night before.

The sweat beaded on her neck when she finally pulled into the parking lot. Tifa wiped the sweat off her palms on the light blue denim of her shorts. She noticed the black marks on her pants only moments later.

"Damn cheap mascara." She grumbled. Eating in the car wasn't a major habit because of her relative closeness to everything in Edge. Tifa didn't want to come into work looking any more ragged than she could, and she knew there had to to be something.

The napkins fell out of her glove compartment with an accompanying small, gray piece of paper. She unfolded it after wiping the stain away:

 _Accept what happened_

 _Get a change of scenery - even if it's outside your home_

 _Put your beautiful self out there_

 _Date someone_

 _Smile_

Dr. Tobey, that wonderful woman, made everything better yet again.

Tifa glanced at herself in the rear-view mirror once, feeling the richness come back into her crimson irises. She wiped small flecks of makeup off the edges of her face before setting her most genuine smile.

* * *

Cloud hadn't fared well that day building houses. North Corel had uncommonly high temperatures for this time of year and the result left the blonde with extreme heat exhaustion. He came back to Barret's and collapsed on the cold linoleum. He laid there for an hour until Marlene came home from pre-school.

"Um… Cloud?" The child nudged him.

"Marlene. I need you … to do something very important."

"I can recite the ABC's backwards!"

"That's great. But I need water. I need it now." Marlene scuttled away when she heard the hoarseness of the man's voice. Cloud, in the meantime, listened to the sweet sound of water filling glass and relished at the feel of the cool floor on his sweaty back. He hated this continent for this reason - it was only relatively liveable in fucking January.

What he had expected was for the four-and-a-half-year-old to hand him the glass of water so that his thirst could quench and then he could shower and come back into full human mode.

What he wasn't expecting was for this child to dump a pitcher full of water on his head and soak the dry parts of his body sweat hadn't touched.

"Agh!"

She giggled and ran up to her room before he could catch her.

Later, when the mopping and the proper shower were over, Cloud came into the main living area of Barret's small home. The culprit for his makeshift bath sat on one of the dustier chairs, coloring away at a piece of work he assumed she brought home from school.

"Papa said he would be home early today!" She beamed when she heard the floor creak under his weight. She seemed oblivious to the memory of their last encounter- but she wasn't even fully five-years-old yet.

"Sweet. No more babysitting duty."

She stuck her tongue out at him. Cloud poured his own water this time before sitting down next in the room with Marlene. She didn't look up from her coloring when he reached for the television remote. He flipped to the news - but it was the same old story: the construction of Edge and the sorry state of the economy. Shinra burned up with all of his wealth leaving the rest of the world to suffer.

He flipped channels until an old childhood favorite came on. Set outside of Gongaga with a small town Sheriff and his son. Cloud smiled. He loved this show growing up. When the bullies hit hard and the teachers failed him, he always had this show and his mother's after school snacks.

He turned the volume up two notches before placing the remote down and setting his feet on the small table in front of him. The TV he watched was about as old as his favorite show. Barret collected junk and other fine assortments, but this contraption worked, so it had to be worth something.

It was about this time, when the Sheriff was taking his son fishing, that Cloud felt two little nudges in his forearm and eyes on him. Marlene handed him a smooth piece of paper.

"I need you to read this to me for fifteen minutes."

"Barret will be home soon."

"Yeah, but I like to get my schoolwork done before sundown so I can watch my favorite TV show!"

"With logic like that, who can argue?" Cloud asked, leaning forward on the leather covering to read off the three paragraph story about a duck that wanted grapes. He remembered the tale from when he was Marlene's age, so he read from memory. Eyes glued to the screen.

"No that's not right." The girl interjected after a few sentences.

"What's not right?"

"You read that sentence wrong! It supposed to be 'do you have any grapes?' not 'got any grapes. It's clear here." Marlene pointed to sentence. Cloud stared at it for a moment, amazed that this little brain could know so much.

"Marlene, you know how to read." Cloud stated more than asked.

"Yeah, and?"

"Who taught you how?"

"Tifa! She had me recognize words on the menu at her old place." Her face beamed up at the memory. "I tried showing my teacher, but she said I still need to work on sentences."

Cloud pointed to another line on the page and Marlene read it as fluent as a girl her age could. She even sounded at more complex words before trying to enunciate them to her audience.

He stared at the page again, trying to find something to challenge the girl. In the top corner, he found her name neatly printed.

"Did you write this?"

Instead of answering, Marlene came over and copied her name in red crayon.

"I guess Tifa taught you that, too?"

"Once I heard her yell at Papa because he didn't send me to the school in sector 7. She made me copy the menu in crayon and sound out the letters."

"So you really can say your ABC's?"  
"Backwards, too! Watch … Z, Y, X, W - " Cloud turned up the volume before handing her back the sheet.

"Finish the rest of your work."

"Yessir."

The bags under Barret's eyes seemed more pronounced when he walk into the house a half-hour later.  
"Shit, man, I completely forgot about dinner." He rubbed his head before attempting to pivot turn out the door again.

"Don't worry about it." Cloud moved off the couch and stretched his legs, "I got Marlene to eat a grilled cheese and I picked at some leftovers."

"Did she get that homework done?"  
"Yes."  
Barret gave a snort of approval before taking heavy steps down the hallway and into his own room. No light emitted from the crack under the door, Cloud figured he passed out right then and there.

Marlene bounced from her own room minutes later, looking for her father.

"He went to bed."

"But it's only 6:30!" She sighed, placing her hands on her hips and surveyed the living room once more. "Ok, well I guess you're going to have to watch my show with me."

"What show?"

"Only the best show in the whole universe!" Marlene threw her hands up in the air, " _Hidden Paradiso_ , it's set in Costa Del Sol and it's the only show Papa approves for me." She looked up at him with saucer-sized eyes. Cloud didn't say anything, but handed her the remote. She flipped to the channel and plopped down on the couch next to him.

Her favorite show, which centered on a single mom trying to raise a small daughter while running a resort, featured on the Crown Jewel channel - one of the most sentimental channels on television. Cloud hadn't watched it much, but he did listen to it a lot when he lived with Tifa in Kalm. He vaguely remembered hearing about the show when commercials for it aired while his housemate folded laundry or drank her nightly glass of wine. Until now, all he knew was the advertisement.

When the actress walked on camera Cloud felt his pulse stutter. She was a pretty thing, a newcomer in most of the entertainment circles, with long dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. Her face didn't share much with his old friend, the actress' chin was much too strong and her nose had a bump in the middle of it. The voice and the demeanor, however. He sometimes wondered about her. More of why she left than anything.

He didn't venture any further. Those thoughts were matches and he was in no condition to play with fire right now.

* * *

 _A/N: I really believe I have the most insightful and wonderful reviewers! Thanks for all the feedback!_


	10. Embers

Chapter 10: Embers

* * *

Later that night, with Marlene tucked away in her yellow sheets and Barret snored, Cloud found himself once again without sleep.

In Costa Del Sol, the solution was simple, bar and well-liquored women. Here, in the midst of dusty North Corel, he didn't want to touch the beer or the mining daughters with a ten-foot pole. Plus, he still didn't have a house key to Barret's. It was more trouble than it was worth, so he contented himself to rest his head in the crook of his elbow; his eyes traced the shadows on the wall.

Because the nature of his visit to his friend's little home was so unplanned, he slept in the study on an air mattress. Cloud didn't mind. His lack of preparing for the North Corel heat bothered him when he went to work in the same black shirt, but the shower along with the desert night cooled his skin. This wasn't the first time he made this mistake, either. Pink ribbons dancing in laughter at his thick clothes laced through the memories of his last visit.

He'd never hear her laugh again. His heart lurched.

Cloud dared to whisper her name into the still night air before turning away from the moonlight. Aerith. Aerith, Aerith, Aerith. It was always her. Those green eyes that kept him awake. They'd forever be branded in his brain as they turned from hopeful to lifeless. Her little body always capable of so much more than he imagined yet so frail when the blade tore her body in two.

She didn't say anything when he lowered into the abyss. She wasn't there, he knew. Yet those damned eyes stayed on him the entire time. He didn't say the words he should have, but they lingered in the air. Appropriate to their story - suspended and never to end yet never to begin.

He threw his head against the pillow and groaned. At points, he wished she would just die. At others, he wished she could come back. It's tough to say which one Cloud wanted more.

His thoughts moved from his former flame to the sound of a television turning on downstairs. He pushed up off the bed, noting the new creaks in his bones when he curled his spine.

The stairs felt never ending on his heavy feet and the work to keep his back straight made the ex-SOLDIER feel lightheaded. It was getting harder to move nowadays, he knew what he needed to do.

The thoughts of the empty orange bottles rolling in his pockets, however, didn't phase him as he followed the small halo of blue light. Marlene was awake and watching a rerun of her favorite show. Cloud didn't have to glance at a watch to know it was ridiculously late for a child under five to watch a situational show.

"Hey Cloud," the girl said with easy breath. He knew she'd heard the heaviness of his joints against the wood of the stairs.

"What are you doing up this late?" His words competed with his racing heart for oxygen.

"I couldn't sleep. You did put me to bed at 8."

Not being able to argue with her due to shortness of breath and a sudden wave of fatigue, Cloud folded himself on the couch beside her and watched the bright scenery.

 _Hidden Paradiso_ ran for an hour and boasted to film on the most exclusive parts of Costa del Sol. Cloud recognized most of the stores and bars in the opening credits. He even remembered some of the girls in the shots of the beach in completely different positions with less on than their string bikinis. It was every man's dream to vacation amongst the buxom, bronzed beauties. He had lived it. Maybe not as glossy as the main character on this show, but he had.

The doctors in Kalm explained to Cloud that his mind had trouble sorting reality from memory. A part played by the combination of Mako degeneration and living a very traumatic last few years. They prescribed journaling, some light drugs to numb any anxiety, and any type of vacation that still kept him fiscally responsible. One of the many rehabilitation centers recommended was in Costa del Sol. He liked the idea of living right next to the water.

When he came home to their bungalow, pamphlets in hand and lips ready to part, he found that she had left with nothing but a pink ribbon tied over her side of the bed. In response, Cloud, who had tried to be realistic about his condition and his friendship with the girl who seemed to stick through anything, escaped to the sun. Though, he bypassed the rehab center and went straight to the beach. Girls flocked to him. Things progressed naturally.

His mind focused on Aerith during the day because it was his only time alone. It was the same image of her over and over again - falling into the murky water. He'd replayed it so much, Aerith didn't seem like a person to him anymore. It was at night, when the soft skin wrapped around him that he thought of Tifa bringing his breakfast and newspaper.

He never called her. He never reached out for her. For all he knew, she came back to that little bungalow trying to find him.

His mind broke away when the Tifa lookalike came on screen. This time she wore a red one piece bikini. She worked as a lifeguard during the day to save up for a newly repossessed resort on the south side of the coast. She looked like a straight board compared to the curvy figure of her missing doppelganger.

"Marlene?" Cloud asked, getting his mind off memories.

"Mmm hmm?"

"Why do you like this show? It seems a little older for you."

Marlene stayed quiet until the scene changed to the younger actress playing the daughter. She was pretty with dark hair and ocean blue eyes, probably poised to be the next sweetheart out of the Golden Saucer, give or a take another decade.

"Because she has one parent and so do I."

Into the blue abyss of his PHS, her number, highlighted in gray, tempted him all too well.

He pressed the button to call her again and placed the device back to his ear. He'd played this game once before five minutes ago: no rings, no busy tone. Only an automated voice saying that the number was disconnected. This was his only point of contact with her.

She had really left.

He tucked the piece back into the pocket of his sweatpants and traced the weeds ripping through the concrete porch. Cloud tried to sleep again after convincing Marlene to go to bed, but black and red raced around his mind.

Tifa, the newest ghost, always scratched under the skin. Even the first time he saw her, on the school playground his first day in Nibelheim, Cloud knew this girl would stick around for life - if only in his mind.

He heard the sliding glass door open behind him and an extra mass invade the air around him. Barret smelled like bedsheets and laundry powder.

"Man, you still pinin'?"

"Not who you think." He reached back into his pocket and illuminated the PHS number. Barret shifted his weight and nodded in a solemn rhythm.

"I always knew she'd be okay in the end." Cloud began, moving his phone from his left to right hands. "Even when we were growing up she had this resilience about her. Y'know?"

"She _looked_ like she was strong." Barret met Cloud's raised eyebrow with, "I lived with her longer than you had."

"Why did she leave?" Barret's question hung in the air.

Cloud pieced together the memories that stood out. The refugee shelter in Kalm, sharing a bunk with Barret while planning finances with Tifa, the decision to move in the 800 gil a month bungalow together. They lied and told the realtors they were engaged in order to get the application approved. It had been his idea and she played along perfectly.

In reality, they felt like a newly married couple with no furniture and very little money to their name.

"I… don't know."

Barret snorted in disbelief before pushing off the ground and walking back in. He had work that day.

Cloud worked through the algorithm one more time. Starting with when they moved in together: the decision to sleep in the same bed, yet choosing the have the sheet separate them. She kept his clothes clean and his food warm. He took long walks throughout the day and tried to accept the fact that Tifa was reality. He grew quiet. He watched her, wishing she'd evaporate like his dreams.

Until one day she did.

It wasn't until he picked up a dehydrated weed to roll in between his forefinger and his thumb when he remembered that one night almost eight months ago.

* * *

 _Three weeks later_

* * *

Tifa stared at her overly-done up reflection in her bathroom mirror. Her black dress had small indents from wiping her sweaty palms and there was one small white mark from her deodorant. She opted for flats that night because her legs shook at the thought of introducing Rude as her date tonight at Dee's going away party.

The invitations came two weeks prior when Tifa worked a double at the bar. Everyone invited was allowed one guest and the hostess requested a business casual dress code. Tifa had planned on declining to go all together, but Rude found the invitation on her dresser.

"You should go." He offered the morning after another incredible night in her bed. "You always have some Dee story and it'll be the last time you see her until next summer."

"Yeah, but I hate going to these events alone and I don't have anything remotely appropriate to Vanessa's standards. Plus, I don't know anybody other than the person the party is for and she'll be busy socializing."

"Well," Rude flipped the invitation over a few times, "it does say a 'plus one' is appropriate given an RSVP."

"You don't really want to go to this, do you?"

"I want to be wherever you are."

That night she bought the new dress with her tips at the bar and Dee gave her a bear hug when she heard about the date Tifa was bringing.

Rude stepped into the bathroom to adjust his purple tie. Tifa picked the color.

"I look so stupid right now."

"You do not!" Tifa lightly punched his shoulder before straightening out his sleeves. "You look good, _debonair_ , as Vanessa would say."

"She'd actually say that?"

"I don't know for fact, but I feel like she's the type of woman who would use those words like salt."

He laughed before regarding her with an eye sweep.  
"You look ravishing." He pulled her into his arms and nuzzled her neck. "And you wore the vanilla perfume. We may not even make it to the party." He began to plant kisses on her before Tifa pulled away.

"Stop! We gotta get going."

"That way we can leave sooner."

Tifa pushed past him to exit the bathroom. He followed her out to the parking lot before stopping her of entering her truck.

"Let's take my car today," He flashed the keys to his sleek sedan. Old company car, he explained. Dead bosses meant great separation packages.

"Um…"

"Trust me, it'll fit in well."

Tifa stuttered again, she explained, poorly, that she liked the security of her truck.

"We've been sleeping together for three weeks and you still think I'm going to kill you?" He laughed more than he accused before trying again, "let's take my car. I feel like I'm losing my manhood when you drive."

Tifa snorted before obliging.

The interior of his car was a nice chrome and black leather finish and still had that new car smell. Rude explained before that all Shinra employees in the Investigation sector received a motorcycle and a luxury sedan upon hiring. Rude's motorcycle was in the parking garage the day of Meteorfall.

He punched in the address into the car's system before pulling out of the parking lot. Tifa's heart thudded in her stomach.

Rude was right. The silver sedan with the blue lights and nice interior fit right in with the other rich colored cars.

"Oh, hey. You don't have child lock on." Tifa joked when she opened the car door. Rude pressed his lips into a thin line before muttering that he wanted to help her out of the car. Tifa grabbed his hand and pushed him forward.

"Help me count the places, this is all rich people shit."

Their home was very easy to find given the blue balloons and streamers coming from the door. Tifa stood by Rude's side and rang the doorbell and gasped when Rude took her hand moments before it opened.

"Tif!" Dee threw a hug around Tifa's neck. "You look so good!"

"So do you!" Tifa exclaimed. Dee's tanned skin looked darker against the mint green skater dress and white sandals. Dee backed out of the hug to examine the tall man next to her coworker.

"Um.. Dee. This is my-"

"Boyfriend." Rude picked up before the silence became awkward. "Hi, Rude."

"You're calling me rude or your name is Rude?" Dee cackled before Rude could answer and waved them inside. "Just so you know it's mostly, like, high school and some of mom and dad's friends, but I'm _so_ glad you came!"

The party still raged when Rude and Tifa decided to slip out. Vanessa excused them with a glass of wine in her hand. The couple elected not to drink, but they still felt high off breathing each other's breath and general being around one another. They both toppled into their own respective side of Rude's car before capturing the other in a hungry kiss.

"My home is too far." Tifa whispered against his neck.

"It's alright," he whispered before cranking the ignition and pushing her back. "I know just the place."

"Where?" She breathed out before struggling with her seatbelt.

"Mine."

His apartment was only minutes from the party. They didn't say much for the rest of the night. Now, as Tifa blinked open to the naturally-lit, cream colored room she began to notice that she spent the night on Chocobo-down sheets and a satin pillow case. She wrapped herself in the high-count sheet before following the smell of coffee. His apartment was a blend of real hardwood floors and stainless steel appliances.

"I don't mean to be crass, but do construction managers make this kind of money?" She asked when she found him dressed in boxers. He sat on the couch with two cups of dark nectar.

"Some of it was left over from my last job, but this place is close enough to the sight that I can never run late. Consequently, value here is really low because you can hear construction all day. " He motioned for her to sit down. Tifa obliged and positioned the sheet over their skin.

"It's nice. A lot nicer than mine."

"Yeah, well I can't imagine what a terrorist's 401k looks like." He knocked her shin with his fist - their sign of teasing.

"First off, you can never prove that I was a part of whatever you're accusing me of," she gave him a coy smile, "and, secondly, my finances have always been bad."

"A.) yes, I could. However, I never wanted to arrest you because you're so damn cute."

"And b?"

"There is no b."

Tifa sipped her coffee. As always, Rude made it to her liking: two creams, one sugar, and a splash of milk. His television, a flat screen naturally, was on low volume so she could just hear the island opening music of _Hidden Paradiso_ , a show she watched once or twice but found it petty. Rude wasn't paying attention to the screen, but his warm honey eyes stayed on her.

"Did I overstep my boundaries last night?" He asked suddenly. The question hang in the air as Tifa considered the good memories of laughing at drunk people and making fun of the expensive items in the hallway.

"When?"

"When I introduced myself as your boyfriend. You didn't get weird, but it felt like things intensified afterward."

Tifa thought back to the sex late last night and came up blank.

"We...We aren't really defined…" Tifa trailed off, seeing if that's where the conversation was supposed to head.

"That's why I feel weird," he confessed. "We've been having a lot of fun, and I did invite myself to this thing and you looked so good and…"

"Where do you see this going?" The question was sudden and electric.

"Tifa. I've told you I'm not playing around anymore. I've done that. I don't like it. Circumstances kept me from making moves before and now here you are, in my apartment, and I'm two seconds away from jumping you."

Tifa silenced with him a kiss before whispering low enough for him to hear what she had been thinking since that date three weeks ago:

" _I'm yours_."


	11. Spark

Chapter Eleven: Spark

* * *

 _Three Months Later_

* * *

The first December in Edge consisted of sleet, runny noses, and the worst flu outbreak in the region since 1990. Experts hypothesized that the dry air, no longer filtered through the plate separating Midgar from the slums, attacked former residents of the slums. It didn't help that the design of the city caused people to live on top of one another, either. Doctors from around the continent came flooded clinics and set up satellite campuses to help with medicine and prognoses. On top of it all, the Northeastern winds threatened a snowstorm.

Tifa felt sick the first week the cold set in. Her apartment heating went out the second week. She stayed with Rude on the third week out of sheer survival and he slept on the couch until the wheezing and the fever stopped.

On the fourth week, after working a double at the pub and going through two box of tissues, she came home to find bags packed and a warm soup in a styrofoam cup. She went for the soup first.

"I think I've found the remedy to your cold." His chest puff forward as he spoke. Tifa found him so cute in his gray joggers and tight black tee shirt. His management sight finished weeks ago, so he'd been consulting more with architects over new or emerging projects. He hadn't found anything he liked enough to commit another six months to.

"A bullet in between the eyes?" She joked before folding on the couch and downing the soup in one sip. Generators in Edge proper had been going out every two minutes, so Tifa had to bartend in her parka.

"A vacation." He sat down on the couch beside her and placed her legs over his laps.

"To the graveyard?" She nudged his shoulder with her knee.

"Fine. I won't tell you." His sideways grin set her off.

"That's not fair!"

"No. no. You're too obsessed with death imagery to care."

"I do care! It's a joke! We joke!" Rude let out a bellowing laugh before facing her head on and explaining his family's condo in Costa del Sol.

"It's sunny and perfect weather. The salt air might do those lungs of yours some good."

Tifa coughed up a dime-sized piece of phlegm. Rude handed her a tissue before she continued.

"How long?"

"Just a week. You can take that off, right?"

"Well, actually, Vanessa told me not come back 'til I'm better." She blew her nose.

"We leave tomorrow, then."

They fell into a quiet, relaxing mood. Rude made her another cup of soup and then disappeared into the next room.

Tifa stretched her heavily-clothed legs and wondered how she got to this couch. It had been a thought running through her head more than once lately. Rude was so good to her: he listened, he cared.

Yet she still felt that tug in her heart. That feeling telling her that something wasn't right. Perhaps it was of their fast movement together, or maybe it was their relationship before recent events.

Just a week ago she took a pregnancy test. She knew she wasn't, but she the little box called to her in pharmacy. She hadn't told Rude about Skye. She didn't think it necessary.

She straightened out once more and glanced around his impressive living room. Yes, the apartment was fully furnished when he moved in, but the cream couch and light blue touches still impressed her.

This is stupid, she chastised herself. This was what she wanted - a man who cared and a lovely color scheme.

Rude came back into the room and grabbed for her hand. He led her into his en-suite bathroom. It was another impressive room with a large tub and granite counter tops. That said tub was filled to the brim with steaming water and rose scented bubbles. Tifa gasped and Rude began to undress her.

"Plus, as good as you look in cableknit, I'd rather see you in a bikini." He remarked after peeling off her thigh-high socks. Tifa took the liberty of unhooking her bra and shedding her jewelry.

"I knew it. Now come here and kiss me."

He obliged, he slowly lowered her into the soul-warming water in the process. He didn't join her. He just sat on the edge and watch her work shampoo through her hair and scrub her dry skin. She caught his gaze more than once. It was the way every girl wanted a man to look at her: like Tifa was the only girl in the world.

Her stomach dropped when she realized what this week was supposed to be.

Vanessa gave her the week off with no complaint. She'd hired some new people and they needed the individual time to learn the bar. Seconds after she hung up with her boss Rude had his car loaded up with a week's worth of swimsuits and summery clothes. The drive to Kalm passed with in-car karaoke. They boarded the cruise liner with no problem and spent more time in the ship bar since the air was still cold.

Hours later they docked in the sun-bleached port. Temperatures in the mid-90's made Tifa wish her hair was much shorter.

"Should we call a taxi?" She asked after he grabbed their bags.

"Taxi? It's a three minute walk that way." He pointed to the north side of the pier. They began and he filled in the footsteps with stories of his time here. "My family is completely native to the area. Shinra gave my parents a nice condo when they found their farmland to have the best views in the island. They took it with the 70g monthly stipend."

"Seventy? That hardly seems fair!"

"They didn't have to work anymore. They worshipped Shinra."

"Which is why you went in as a Turk."

"Partly."

"What was the other part?"  
"Little things that all rolled into one big reason."

"Ok. Mr. Mysterious." Tifa stuck her tongue out at him. He shuffled through his pocket and came up with a small gold key. He pointed away from the coast to a white-walled condo. When he unlocked the door.

"This is where I grew up."

Tifa surveyed the area. The couches were green with beige trimmings and the countertops were tile. The house had an Old Island feel to it. She knew his parents died when he was younger, that was a pillow talk conversation during the first weeks of being together.

"I keep the place rented throughout the year," Rude explained when he saw Tifa search for signs of life. "I took this week off the renting list."

"I bet this place is super popular!"

"It really is. I had to hire a maid service during the high season because the check in is usually an hour after check-out."

"You really know how to keep your money." Tifa mused, thinking about the lavish apartment, the nice car, his relatively nice clothes.

"I don't know about that. It's just an opportunity."

She raised an eyebrow at him before grabbing his hand and whispering in her best sultry whisper: "why don't you show me where your room was."

* * *

Cloud actually missed the cold winters famous in Kalm. He finished his morning coffee watching the weather report of the emerging snowstorm threatening to cover Kalm and Edge in a quilt of powder. It was the same news during the winter: lots of people sick, not enough supplies, and Mother Nature decided to be a bitch at the most inconvenient time.

Cloud loved it. Nibelheim had a much milder winter that he remembered. Only a few feet of snow - enough to cancel school for a day. Nothing beat winter mornings to him.

Barret came in from the muggy outdoors with sweat stains on his white shirt. He looked at Cloud before barking orders to leave. The blonde chugged his coffee before flipping off the television and stretching to stand up. His winter wonderland would have to wait, even if it didn't feel like December to him.

It was Marlene's birthday week and they were headed to Costa del Sol to celebrate turning five.

* * *

 _A/n: In honor of my wedding anniversary and boredom at my job, here you go! Two for one week!_

 __CD_


	12. Rising Tides

Chapter 12: Rising Tides

* * *

Somewhere between the beach, the fresh seafood, and the sex on the balcony Tifa realized that she wasn't going to sleep that night.

Rude was right though, the sea air did wonders to the congestion and the runny nose. Another night and she'd be perfect. If only she could sleep, of course. She rolled over to face her lover. His snores were soft and his chin showed the early signs of stubble. He slept on the side by the open window to protect her from the chill while still getting her better.

"How lucky I am." She whispered to herself. Her fingers stretched across to rest on his rich, beige skin. The muscles tightened underneath her touch, but he didn't stir.

She returned her hand back to rest her head against it. She studied the thickness of Rude's body and the way his broad shoulders tapered to a thinner waist and hips. She couldn't see it because of the moonlight, but she knew the lines of muscles that existed in his skin. She had committed to memory through kisses and traces. She knew the scars on his back and the untold stories that awaited sleepless nights on both parties.

He was so unlike Cloud. Cloud with his svelte build and rippling muscles. He never had much mass; therefore his arms seemed to be an unending sound-wave under the skin. She had known the hidden scars on his torso long before he undressed in front of her. The smell of his skin felt like memory.

Sometimes, if she could lose herself for a fraction of a second, she thought she was sleeping in his arms again. But that was the pre-Skye world.

She slid out of the bed, making sure to wrap a turquoise robe around her tired body. Rude didn't stir. He never did when he slept.

Tifa moved to the open balcony and stared at the navy-blue water facing the house. The waves crashed in and moved out on each other. When she was younger, she thought it was the most romantic thing to watch.

Until that night when she watched Cloud and Aerith watching the waves. Bodies pressed against the other, whispering promises he'd never be able to keep.

She had known for a fact they had never slept together. She watched them too closely and listened in on conversations. She'd replace Barret on party excursions when his arthritis affected his elbow - which was a few times when she figured out how to replace his pills with placebos.

How stupid she was to think she had beaten a dead woman. How dumb it is to believe that one night will keep them forever.

She remembered that night as if it were a memory lovers shared frequently. His lips on hers, the pressure in his lower body. He pushed her against the hay.

But she initiated it with her own damn words.

She threw an imaginary punch at the moon and succumbed to her own silent tears. All she wanted to do was curse Aerith's dead body. Aerith - the girl from the slums. The flower girl. The virgin. The one Don Corneo would never pick, yet Cloud did. He did once and again. She'd always play second.

The sad thing was she knew she couldn't hate her, because she missed her just as much.

Marlene told her once, before she left for North Corel, that she felt like Aerith was the aunt she always wanted. Then she looked at Tifa with her big brown eyes and whispered, "you'll always be the closest thing I have to a mommy." After Marlene left; Tifa cried because she knew she lost all sense of purpose in her life.

These emotions are ridiculous, she chastised herself. She had a future with someone who cared, someone who went out of his way to make her feel better when she had the sniffles. Most women can't even think of a man that good, let alone claim one. She threw her face into her hands and let out a deep sigh. The tears flowed as free as they could.

"Fuck it." Her voice quivered. She looked up from her hands and back at the full moon and whispering her curse again.

She turned on her heel and headed back into her room. She climbed on top of her bed partner and captured his lips with hers. He woke up with a jerk only to wrap his arms around her tense body.

Tifa shook her head when he tried to pin her down. Her muscles may not have been what they once were, but there was enough strength in her own pull to keep Rude's back flat on the mattress.

* * *

Mangoes and mimosas spiked the air next morning. Rude presented them with pride on the best dishware when she came into the kitchen.

"Picked them myself."

"And squeezed the orange juice?" She asked, pointing over to the peels on the counter.

"Well, I'm trying to stay humble."

Tifa accepted the drink with an eye roll.

"Drink up." He poured himself a glass, "it's got vitamin C."

"And alcohol!"

"Mental health and physical health all in one go." He smiled coyly at her before taking his place across her at the breakfast table. He had his own feasts of eggs and potatoes, but Tifa was still sick and could only stomach tiny bits of food.

"Last night was hot, by the way." He didn't speak with food in his mouth. An admirable trait. "If you ever feel like waking me up in the middle of the night again for that, feel free."

Tifa giggled and cast her eyes downward. It had been relatively great sex - charged by Tifa wanting to forget anything up to this point in her life. She wouldn't tell him that.

"What do you want to do today?" She glanced up at him eager to change the conversation.

"Can't we repeat last night?"  
"No!" Her tone felt condescending. "I'm never here! We have to do something."

"Well, we've beached, brunched, and we've done something that starts with an 'f'." This earned a kick under the table.

"Ooh! Let's go to the zoo!"

His eyebrow raised.

"Oh, come on, Rude! It's one of the best spots here and I haven't been in so long."

"That place is crawling with five year old children."

"We've got a height advantage over them!" She locked her fingers together and shot him her best fluttering eyelashes. "Please? It'll only make me feel better." She stuck her lower lip out and looked away.

In moments, she heard the deep laughter rumble from his chest.

"It means that much to you?"

She nodded. He didn't say anything when he pushed out of his seat and out of the hallway.

"I'm going to take a shower and expect you to join me." He called from the bedroom. Tifa laughed and stood up out of her seat. This would be a good day even if it killed her.

The sound of a fist against wood threw the couple off.

Rude, in the middle of taking his shirt off, threw the item on the floor, passing Tifa in the process, and looked through the peephole.

She saw the color drain out of his neck before he turned around to face her.

"Go ahead and shower." His voice sounded tight against his throat. "I'll be there as fast as I can."

"Is everything ok?" Tifa felt her shoulders come forward and her knees bend - the fighter's instinct would never leave her.

"Yeah… no. I don't know. Look, babe, please go to the bathroom."

The knocking began again. They heard a frustrated sigh from the outside before the sound of a lock turning. Tifa and Rude only looked at each other paralyzed.

"'aye, Rude." The voice came before the door cracked open. Tifa used the opportunity to sprint to the shower, locking the bedroom door behind her.

Thirty minutes later, the "all clear" text came to her phone. She came into the entryway of the house with fresh hair and dressed in a pair of pink shorts with a black shirt. Rude looked worse for wear. Still in his morning clothes, he smelled like sheets and sweat. He sat on the couch with both his elbows on his knees, looking down.

She made a conscious sound, and he looked up to her with weak eyes.

"Hey you." She knelt to his level. He shook his head.

"Go on without me," he started, glancing at his nails, "I need the morning off."

"Is everything ok? We don't have to go."

"No. Go. Please." He looked at her this time. "Go have fun and get better."

She kissed his forehead before muttering a goodbye. He held her hands a little longer than he should have.


	13. Rip Currents

Chapter 13: Rip Currents

* * *

The balmy air and high temperatures that made Costa del Sol famous clung to the back of Tifa's throat. She justified the 3g bottle of water when she got into the zoo and headed straight to the frozen exhibits. The air conditioner was a welcome relief. Tifa sat in front of the marine life exhibit and sipped her drink.

She opted to walk to the zoo from Rude's condo. It was a strenuous three mile walk that she once made when she was a month and a half pregnant. She picked Skye's name that day because it was perfect and in the 70's. Moreover, the sky was the color of the eyes of the man responsible for her baby. It would make a good name for either sex. For middle names: Emily if she had a girl, Emerson for a boy. It would be the only homage she would pay to Cloud's family. His mother, Emily Strife, was an overall lovely person with thick blonde hair and the same sad eyes Cloud would come to know. Tifa had always liked her, even when her father would mutter something about the trash the the Western winds brought in, she always found Ms. Strife heavily misunderstood.

Tifa thought about Emily often when the heartburn came or when Skye rested in her ribs. Cloud didn't know anything about his own father, that much she knew about his personal life. How scared Emily must have been. She wondered if Cloud was as fussy of a baby in the womb as his daughter. She wished she could ask those questions. Tifa found comfort in thinking that maybe Emily had the same thoughts, maybe she had the same wishes. They were the same after all - two women with all odds stacked against them. Emily, however, died a death more horrific than Tifa could imagine. She, on the other hand, was still alive and childless, trying to survive.

When Skye opened her eyes, she knew Emily was a part of her. Then she died, and Tifa was alone again. That part of her life was over.

She chugged the rest of her water and brushed the sweat on her neck with her palm. Rude popped in and out of her mind, she worried about him as any good girlfriend ought to, but she also felt guilty because she enjoyed the time alone.

She did have guesses to the visitor she never saw, based on the voice, she was sure it was Reno. The small possibility did exist that it could be Tseng, but she had spent enough time around the Wutain to know his speech patterns. Whoever it was left long before Tifa emerged from the bathroom.

It's funny, the more she ran away from her past the more it threatened to confront her. All she needed to do was run into Cloud today. She laughed at her little thought. He was probably still in their bungalow in Kalm. He probably forgot to change the water in those damn flowers he insisted on buying. At first, she thought they were for her, but she soon realized that they were a memory of something he didn't want to let go. She tried to water them one day, but he snapped at her and moved the vase. His moods were the worst because they were silent and subtle. It took an observant listener to see what she had done wrong. She lived with him long enough to read them, but not understand. The more Tifa thought about it she wondered if she even tried.

A fish swam toward the surface to get a cherry thrown in by one of the zookeepers. The tank was huge and housed over a thousand brightly colored fish swimming in the same circles, never really caring about the other.

Rude came into her mind again. His face when she left never looked more defeated. it bothered Tifa that she wasn't more apt to help him or to ask what was wrong. She accepted his request without a simple pry into his feelings. He knew the surface of Tifa: the fun, the sex, the jokes. He knew her as a working girl who didn't talk about her old friends, much like she knew him as a complacent construction manager who'd rather watch reruns of old sitcoms or roll around in the sheets than see old coworkers. The relationship the two shared felt superficial to her, all about desire and trying to forget.

 _Maybe it's me_. She rationalized. Indeed, maybe it was her. Tifa thought of moments where she could've pressed on more and asked about his life - his childhood stories he didn't volunteer, the memories he didn't share. Maybe he was waiting for her to inquire more.

She pushed off the bench determined to make it all right.

* * *

Tifa left the zoo right when the crowd picked up and started toward the shopping area of Costa del Sol. She remembered bits and pieces of the town, mainly a bakery off the main street that made sweet little custard pies Tifa craved during the first few weeks of her pregnancy. She turned the corner and found the bakery still open for business. She pushed the door opened and walk straight to the counter.

Her order of a large custard pie took thirty minutes to make and smelled like fresh clerk, who looked a lot like Dee with longer hair, presented it in a pink box. She thought about having something written on it, but decided not to and only had the box tied with a white string. She didn't know Rude's favorite color, but she did know what went with pink. Presentation was, after all, everything.

Rude's home wasn't far from the city center, especially when Tifa cut through the alleyways. She set her plan for the night in her head - dinner, dessert, and a long night of conversations about their pasts, their hopes and dreams. Then they would make love, but that would be after the hours of direct, uninterrupted conversation.

It would be perfect.

Rude had given her a duplicate key the night they arrived. Tifa slipped the key from the pocket of her shorts and slid it into the dead bolt. The lock clicked open. Tifa pressed inside with her back.

"Hey, you!" Tifa kicked off her sandals in the small tiled space in front of the door. No one answered her, but he may be sleeping. She placed her pie in the refrigerator and walked over to their bedroom. She found the blue bed made and no sign of anyone in there since she left.

"Rude?" She called once more. She walked upstairs to search the other bedrooms. Nothing. Her fists found her hips before the brunette let out a small harrumph. Not even a note.

She grabbed her keys from the rack and locked the door behind her. She didn't see the bike he rented for the trip, either.

Where the hell was he?

She glanced at her watch, 12;55 p.m., the lunch crowds were still going but the beach in front of the house was empty. She walked to the point where the sand met the concrete and sat down, watching the random passersby next to the breaking waves.

The last time she came here, she could barely sit for her emerging stomach. She promised the little lump inside her that she'd take it to the ocean one day. She did fly over the ocean with Skye's little remains. Though that didn't mean the same thing.

Since it was the off season, Tifa didn't see any toddlers in cute, frilly one pieces. That may have killed her, especially now. She heard sounds of children playing, but they were off in the distance. Tifa followed the sound with her eyes, only to find two indistinct blobs.

"Give it up, Tif."

Maybe Rude would want kids and she could start fresh. Their kids would be pretty in an exotic way and great athletes. At least her son couldn't be bullied with Rude's larger frame.

That is if she could carry a pregnancy to term.

The blobs her eyes followed got bigger as they worked down the shore line. First, Tifa saw a taller figure helping a much smaller figure complete a cartwheel.

"Papa! Hold me up!" The voice rang through Tifa's ears. The pitches were as distinct as night to her.

"Marlene!" What meant to be a whisper came out as a yelp. The two figures caught sight of Tifa's sitting body and trotted toward her. The little one came racing to her and enveloped her in a strong hug around Tifa's knees. The bigger one, with the gun attachment in lieu of a hand, was more cautious. Tifa didn't mind. She looped Marlene into her arms and swung her around.

"Did you get taller?" She asked after a set of awkward reunion giggles.

"I dunno." Marlene turned on her heel and pulled the taller female's arm. "Papa! Look! It's Tifa!"

Barret, looking larger than Tifa remembered, stood at the midpoint between Marlene and the ocean. His arms crossed across his bulging chest. Tifa gulped when Marlene's dragging brought the two adults toe-to-toe.

Even though he was wearing sunglasses, she knew he was giving her the once over. Other than her hair, nothing really had changed on Tifa. Her heart tore at her ribcage.

Then his arms went around her in a bear hug. This time, it was Tifa who found herself being lifted her off the ground and swung around the hot air.

"Welcome back." Barret whispered.

Just like that, Tifa felt a small feeling of that nostalgia that comes from visiting a relative's house.

She tried not to cry.


	14. Icing

Chapter Fourteen: Icing

* * *

"Oh my gosh, your birthday is tomorrow!" Tifa remembered after she stepped out of Barret's embrace. She turned to the soon-to-be five year old and knelt down to her level. Which, admittedly wasn't as far as she remembered.

"Mmmhmmm. We were going to celebrate tonight but C-"

"Things came up." Barret interjected all too quick.

"That is simply unacceptable!" Tifa arched an eyebrow at the man and looked back to his daughter. "It's your birthday week! The last six days should have been a celebration!" She noted Barret shifting from side-to-side in the sand. She gave him the look he knew after years of living with the busty brunette. The "I know you're hiding something, but your kid's here" look. He'd crack later, he knew, but for now he could act like he didn't.

"We celebrated by coming here."

"No custard cake yet, Papa."

"We were working on getting that until someone saw a dolphin."

"Papa!" Marlene's hands flew up after her realization. "We didn't find the dolphin!"

"Well, go on and find her. We'll watch."

Marlene nodded and ran toward the shoreline.

"She's not going to go in the water is she?"

"She can swim."

"She's five."

"You're right. Hey, Marlene! Stay outta that water! Y'hear?" In the distance, Marlene gave a thumbs up and stopped right where the waves met her feet.

Tifa and Barret stood beside each other in an awkward sway.  
"She got taller."

"Mmhmm." Barret gave her the side-eye.

"What?"

"That's all you're gunna say? After a year of being gone?"

"It hasn't been a year."

"12 months." Barret faced her. "The last we saw you was Marlene's birthday party in Kalm."

 _Shit_. Tifa shifted uncomfortably in the sand before glancing back up to her friend.

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't apologize to me. I get it."

"Do you?"

Barret kept his gaze on her before shaking his head in a firm _No_. She couldn't blame him. Barret, who had saved her life from child prostitution and leering man, acted as a father to her more times than she could remember. He knew all her feelings about Cloud long before he met the blonde. She owed him her new number, at least.

"You just going to disappear again?" Barret watched Tifa glance back at the row of houses behind them. He figured she stayed in one of them with some rich man. She was pretty enough to get a sugar daddy.

"N-no. I was thinking whether it was worth going back and getting a piece of paper."

"For what?"

"My new number." Her hair fell in front of her face as she spoke. Barret pulled his own bulky PHS out of his pocket and punched in her number as she recited it. They both nodded at the other before Tifa went to stare at the pilling on her cotton shirt. The crowd at the beach was starting to pick up as the lunch hour dwindled.

"Can we go to lunch?" She tried again, the thought of empty restaurants popping into her head and a chance to talk.

"Take Marlene?"  
"Always. It is her birthday week after all."

"Don't encourage her." Barret snorted before resigning his daughter in. He stopped in the middle of his gait and turned to her.

"Actually, let me drop her off with her babysitter. We need grownup talk."

They settled on a place close to the city center before leaving the other. Tifa walked back to Rude's home, aware of Barret's eyes on her. The door slid open with ease and the sink was on. She tip-toed into the kitchen to see Rude washing dishes with a mindless ease.

"Hey, you." She leaned against the entryway to his kitchen. He turned to look at her through his sunglasses. "Been here long?"  
"Maybe ten minutes. I would've come outside but I saw Wallace."

"Yeah. We kinda ran into each other. It's his kid's birthday. We're going to lunch to celebrate. Did you see your cake?

"Have fun. I did, but I don't like cake." Tifa felt her stomach sink a little.

"Do you want to come along?"

"No. I need to clean this place up." He placed the last dry dish in the cabinet and turned to look at her. Tifa noticed that his eyes weren't actually on her, though. They focused on her forehead and something behind her shoulder.

"Rude. I have thirty minutes. Is everything ok?"

"Did you tell Barret about us?"

"It didn't come up." She shrugged. "If it does, I'll talk about it."

Rude only exhaled. He took his sunglasses off and wiped them on his shirt before acknowledging her. "Go ahead and have fun. I'll be here all day."

Tifa thought about going in for a kiss, but his demeanor told her to stay away.

*Insert break*

"Babysitter, huh?" Tifa said to Barret over her menu. "You must be doing really well!"

"Not really. This one's cheap." He reached his good hand over to the chip basket and doused it in salsa.

They exchanged these little conversations for the most of the lunch before the waiter took their orders. He came quickly, though, and wrote Tifa's shrimp fajita and Barret's bean burrito with speed.

"Oh and an order of guacamole and chips to go for me." Tifa added before closing her menu. Barret shot her a look. Tifa shrugged.

"Sometimes, I get hungry."

"You still in Kalm?"

"No. I'm bar tending in Edge." She bit into a chip. "Not my own bar, but it's good money."

"Living situation?"

"I have a one bedroom piece of shit." Barret guffawed.

"That's what you get for living in the city!"  
"Whatever. How's Corel?"

"Horrible as ever. But, hey, it's home."

Tifa rolled her eyes. Barret was far too loyal to the idea of home.

"Don't gimme that."

"I'm not giving you anything." She winked at him.

"Speaking of giving something-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Tifa held up a hand. "My personal life is not up for discussion now."

"I'm just saying. You look good."

Tifa took a long sip of her water before looking at him. "Well, they say sex is really good for the complexion."

"Tifa Lockhart!" She let out a much needed laugh.

"Is it anyone we know?"  
"I said I'm not telling!"

Their food came. Barret shoveled a bit into his mouth before looking at her.

"I'll tell ya what, I'll share if you share."

"You first."

Barret looked long and hard at her for five minutes. She could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Damn. I ain't got nothing. Tell me!'

"That went against the deal!" She took a few more bites of her food. Barret finished the rest of his plate and down his water. He ordered a beer when the waiter came back. He saw Tifa's own stare.

"I'm not around a kid right now. I can drink."

"You drank around Marlene before."

"Yeah, but she was younger. She didn't question as much." Barret took a long swig of his beer.

"She's five now. Wow."

"They grow up fast."

"Are you going to do anything?"

"No. Her birthday is tomorrow."

"Barret!" Tifa slapped her palm on the table. "She's only five once!"

"So?"

"Ugh." Tifa polished her water away. "I'm coming over tonight then and am going to spoil her. I have a custard cake."

"You sure you wanna do that?"  
"I insist."

"You insisted."

* * *

Tifa walked back up the steps to Rude's condo and pushed the door open. She didn't say more than a greeting to Rude, who was sitting on the couch with a book in his hand, before starting toward the kitchen.

"In a rush?"

"Yeah." She opened the fridge and grabbed for the pink box. She placed it on the counter before heading to the bedroom.

"Going somewhere?"  
"I need a shower, wanna join?"

Rude pushed off the couch and followed her. Tifa had stripped down to her green thong by the time the water was hot enough, Rude came in nothing but his black boxers. She looped her fingers through the green fabric when the tanned lips met hers.

They had sex with rebellion before. In fact, most of their sexual encounters involved a sense of urgency most lovers didn't know. This kiss - this initiation, was different. Tifa felt his teeth latch onto her bottom lip. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up. Her legs entwined around him, her feet pulling at the waistband of his underwear. He threw the shower curtain aside and held her against the wall, attacking the sensitive skin of her neck and chest with fervor. She melted into the steam by the time he started thrusting.

"R-Rude." She mumbled. Her head rested on his thick shoulder. He didn't answer her. His hips bored into her. Her body loved the feeling, the rush climbed up her thighs and to her chest. This attention she craved daily, and he was the only man who ever satisfied her like this.

She froze when he pulled away from her, at the precipice of her own undoing. His own liquid spilled down both of their legs. The next moments, when he rinsed off and bolted out of the room, confused her.

She called his name and followed his trail.

But he was gone. Locked away in the upstairs room.

Tifa dressed and left with her cake in tow.

Barret's hotel room was a good fifteen minute walk from her place. The cake thawed by the time she got to the elevator. Her thoughts remained on Rude.

"Let me inside your head." She prayed when the elevator _Ding'd_ alerting Tifa that she was on Rude's hotel floor.

Room 524 wasn't too hard to find. She trotted to the door and shifted the cake so she could knock the door.

It took two minutes for the door to open.

"About time!" She laughed. She wasn't focused on who answered the door until she walked into the lean figure. She looked up and had to think twice before she dropped the pink box.

"Cloud."

This was the icing on the cake for the world's weirdest day.


	15. Reunion

Chapter Fifteen: Reunion

* * *

Cloud looked good in that heartbreaking way Tifa remembered. His body seemed fuller, the muscles bulkier. His shoulders squared after helping her gather her bearings.

"Hi." He said.

 _Seriously?_

"I brought cake! Where's the birthday girl?"

Tifa stepped around Cloud and called Marlene's name. Barret came through the bathroom.

"She's getting the salt out of her hair," he wrapped an arm around Tifa and led her to the kitchenette.

"You didn't tell me your babysitter was a man?" Tifa said through clenched teeth.

"You didn't ask."

She set the box down on the small counter space and opened it. Marlene came jumping out of the bathroom when Tifa lit the candles Barret had sitting by the counter.

"Yay! The gang's all here!"

Tifa perked an eyebrow, but then remembered where she might have picked up that word. Barret led the three adults in a weak version of "Happy Birthday." Marlene didn't notice and blew the candles out with gusto. Tifa cut the cake into small pieces.

"Who ever doesn't love a custard cake is nuts." Barret said through a mouthful of food. Cloud agreed with that stupid nod of his.

"Well, it is super fattening."  
Barret shot the woman a look. Tifa shrugged with her fork. "Just sayin'."

"Ain't nobody worrying 'bout their dam- dang figures here."

"I'll say." Cloud nudged Barret's gut with his elbow.

"Shut up, beer gut!"

"Too much language on my birthday!" Marlene stood up to put her paper plate in the trash.

"Your birthday is tomorrow."

"Tifa says it's my birthday week."

Cloud looked directly at the woman for the first time. Tifa felt her stomach melt.

* * *

Tifa had always been a pretty girl. Cloud noticed her shorter 'do first. It stopped right below her collarbone and had a jagged edge to it that made her seem older. Her skin glowed. She wore a green tank top just low enough to see the beginnings of her cleavage.

Cloud felt all the blood beginning to pulsate around his thighs.

He remembered that night. In the Chocobo stable before they faced their deaths.

They had always had a weird, charged chemistry between them. The possibility of waking up to death only made the situation more urgent.

He kissed her first. Having only the time she kissed him on the roof of her house as a point of memory, she had only gotten better. Trying to keep up with her, he was reminded of his virginity.

Then her shirt came off and the rest of the night sealed itself.

Tifa's eyes met his and he pulled himself out of his memory. Those peculiar crimson orbs. There was something charged behind them, an urgency to talk to him. He held her gaze until she looked away.

"Ok! I want to sleep. Papa promised me the zoo tomorrow." Barret went to put the young girl to bed and came back with a bottle of amber liquid a three cups. He poured the group a generous amount of booze before holding his cup in the air for a toast.

"To lost time."

"To Marlene's birthday."

"To alcohol."

The friends downed their drinks in one swallow. Tifa thought of her walk home until Barret filled her glass again.

*Insert Break*

"First thing's first." Barret began, taking another swig of his drink. "Tifa's got a rich boyfriend who puts her up in a sweet beach condo three feet from the water."

"He's not rich."

"Nope. Anytime you talk it's a shot for you." Tifa followed his rule. She raised her hand until Barret called on her.

"This isn't fair."

"Another shot!"

"You take a shot!"

"Hey, yo! Look at you catching on to my rules!" He took a shot.

"So you don't deny you having a boyfriend."

"Not at all. Just his financial status."

"Don't she looked flushed?"

Tifa caught Cloud shift on the floor.

"Except for this guy here." Barret clapped his hand on Cloud's shoulder. "We had to be careful with this trip because he's gotten every skirt in Costa del Sol."

"Why doesn't that suprise me?"

"Burn! Cloud, shot!"

Cloud chugged his drink before walking into the bathroom.

"What's his deal?"

"Same ol' spikey headed shit." Barret clapped Tifa's knee before looking her head on. "Now that we gotta him out of the way. Who _is_ the guy?"

"You sure you wanna know?"

"Yes!"

"Rude."

Tifa took a mouthful of Barret's drink.

" _A Turk?"_

"He's not a Turk anymore, Barret."

"Bull. Once a Turk, always a Turk." Barret's eyes hardened. Tifa took another sip of her drink.

"He treats me right, Barret. Better than that fucker in the bathroom."

Barret took a long swig before asking her the question she dreaded answering. "What happened between you two."

She had practiced for this day during sleepless nights and long drives. Her answer came out steady and strong.

"Ask him." She took a long sip of her drink. Barret followed suit.

*Insert break*

At 10, Tifa started to gather her things to leave. Barret objected to her walking out of their hotel inebriated.

"Cloud, take her back to her boo thang."

"But-"

"Nope. I'm drunk, she drunk; you ain't." Cloud let out a groan before slipping on his shoes.

"C'mon." He grabbed the woman's arm and helped her out the door. Tifa sobered up

when his skin touched hers. She wondered if Cloud felt the same shock reverberating throughout his skin. She tripped over the uneven platform on the elevator, but Cloud's calloused hand caught the curve of her waist.

"Whoa there," he steadied her like a horse. His hand fell on the small of her back, which was bare thanks to the rising cotton of her tanktop. The goosebumps rose. Tifa's breath shook.

She straightened up and pulled away from the blonde to stand in the other corner of the elevator. Inside, Tifa felt like dying.

 _What is going through your mind?_

* * *

Her skin felt like gravity and she looked like paradise. Cloud had all but forgotten what her skin felt like against his hands.

He considered pushing her up against the wall and capturing that sweet mouth again. He could do it. Hell, he could show Tifa things she didn't know, like she had with him that year ago.

He wanted to bring up their past, but then he remembered her mentioned boyfriend. She crossed her arms to him. Her eyes studied the floor and he took the opportunity to focus on those sweet pink lips of hers.

The shrill sound of the elevator woke him out of his stupor. She started out before him, he followed. Once outside the hotel, she turned to face him.

"You don't have to walk me home. It's all main road from here."

"Barret gave me one job, ma'am."

Tifa huffed. Cloud had caught her in a trap. He gestured for her to lead the way. The air was spiced with rum and limes and Tifa smelled like vanilla. She walked faster than him; he took the opportunity to watch her tight black shorts.

She headed south on the ocean side of the street. She told him it was a fifteen minute walk. Cloud racked his mind over topics to talk. She looked so tense being around him.

He stopped her in front a neon-lit bar.

"What?" She snapped, her arms wide.

"I could use a drink and so could you."

"I need to get back."

"It's ten. If he needs you, he'll call." He held the door open for her and offered his best smile.

"Strife, you are the most annoying man."

"And you left me. I deserve at least one drink."

Four shots and three margaritas later, Tifa finally looked him head on. He loved looking at those crimson eyes almost as much as he missed Aerith's green ones.

 _What is wrong me?_

"I didn't leave you." She started the conversation after taking a gulp of her yellow drink. " _You_ left me."

"The hell you say." Cloud sipped his own beer before answering her fully. "It was you who left."

"Physically. You were gone emotionally a long time before I decided to leave."

"Is _that_ what this is about?"

"Isn't she what it's always about?"

"Don't bring up a dead girl, Lockhart."

"I wouldn't. I wouldn't win that one."

Cloud side-stared her. She grabbed his beer and took a swig. God, she looked so good. Her thighs were supple and her chest seemed fuller than before.

He didn't bite her bait. Aerith was a sensitive topic for the buxom brunette. Aerith was a sensitive topic for Cloud, too. Though, he wasn't considering the intricacies of that love triangle while he stared at her rising chest.

She leaned over the table to look at him. He knew her drunk face.

"God. It is good to see you." She reached for his arm and squeezed the bare skin. Cloud swallowed, trying to forget the blood escaping his brain.

"You look great." His voice strained against his desire. She grabbed for his dark beer and took another sip.

"So, Barret tells me you were quite the ladies' man?"

"For a while there, yeah." He winked at her before leaning in, "it's all thanks to you, though."

Tifa straightened up.

"Y-you remember that night?" The alert in her eyes came back. Cloud scrambled a prayer that she'd go back to being loose.

"How can I forget?" He grabbed his beer and chugged. "You in the hay?" He reached for her arm once more, but Tifa pulled away.

"C-cloud." She sighed. "Am I-"

Cloud reached over the table to capture those lips in the kiss he wanted to plant on her since he saw her again. He moved around the table, sucking on her bottom lip. His hands wrapped around the familiar curves. Ah, how he missed this.

The bar's music pulsated and the room was dark enough so he didn't have to worry about any onlookers.

* * *

His lips were home. Warm, wet, and heavy with desire for her. Tifa wrapped her arms around him tighter.

Aerith still popped into her head. Did he wish this was her instead?

Her hands found his chest and she pushed away before her lust could take over again.

"What the hell?" Her voice came out breathy - not the effect she wanted.

"A-Aeri-"

He couldn't finish the name when her fist met his jaw. The _pop!_ made the bar stop. Tifa turned on heel to run away. Completely sober, she could feel the little voice inside of her whispering.

 _I told you so._

* * *

 _How nuts am I? Two chapters in one day?_


	16. Clean

Chapter Sixteen: Clean

* * *

Tifa found the door to Rude's condo unlatched and the lights off. She dialed his number before she could think against it.

"H-hey." There were loud noises on his end. It made her tense up. The possibility that he could be at she very bar she just escaped.

"Where are you? Everything is unlocked."

"I didn't think you were going to get home before me." She heard closer voices this time.

"Are you with someone?"

"I am." Tifa exhaled, half-annoyed and half-relieved. He spoke before she could say anything.

"Babe. I can come home now." His voice slurred and it had been the first time in a day that he'd called her by anything other than her name. Her heart lurched. She wished Cloud would have chased after her with apologies and explanations. But the silence on her end punctuated the finality of it all.

"Tifa?"

"Wha? Y-yeah. Please come home."  
"I'm leaving now."

"Rude?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you." She slid the phone into her pocket before he could say anything else. She kicked the door close with her foot and fell onto the couch. She cried into the burlap throw pillow until she saw the headlights from the main windows.

Rude had only stepped through the doorway when Tifa posed her question.

"It's Reno, isn't it?"

He threw his body weight on the couch before breathing out. His left hand gripped her bare thigh.

"We both have some things to talk about with each other."

"You first?"

"Nope. You called me home." He turned a lamp on and pushed off the couch. He shifted his body so his strong legs, clad in cargo shorts, entangled with hers. The same way she and Dee talked about Cloud those months ago. Tifa sat up and smooth the wrinkled ends of his shorts as she told him everything.

Her voice stayed solid as she explained Skye. Her little secret six feet deep in cold soil. She glanced at his eyes in small intervals when she confessed that Cloud never knew and she'd cut off any ties with her old friends.

"It was my chance to start 'fresh.' Skye dying only made it that more urgent to get out of Kalm. It's funny though, because I ended up doing the same things I had always been doing - bartending, caring for others way more than myself…" She breath shook. Rude's calloused hands reached for hers. Tifa found the strength in his touch to tell him about the last 15 hours - Barret, Marlene, and Cloud. The kiss. Aerith's name.

Rude listened. His sunglasses were gone for the night.

"I don't know anymore. It's easy to compartmentalize when he's not around, but then it's like he's my drug."

"You two have a history. It'd be abnormal to be numb to him."

"I punched him."

"He had it coming." Tifa laughed harder than she should have, bending forward and letting her hair flip over her head. Rude's recent mood swings weren't far from her mind.

"So… that's my story. I couldn't carry a full baby to term because I can't let a dead girl go."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Don't belittle the last year of my life." Rude rolled his amber eyes before explaining, as objectively as someone could explain, that Mako infused males have been known to father sickly, premature babies.

"It's a crapshoot. Either the baby does a full term but has serious formative problems, or it doesn't make it full term."

"She had one valve significantly smaller than the other and she was a premie."

"I can almost promise you it had everything to do with the sperm and not your womb. You could probably sue him for failure to disclose."

Tifa slapped his calf, worried that he could talk about something so serious with such detachment. Then again, given his profession…

"Your turn." She nudged him. He sighed with a distinct hesitation.

"You already know Reno came to visit." He paused to watch Tifa nod. "I did choose to stay with them after Midgar was destroyed. We worked out deals in our contracts." He picked at some pilling on her shirt. "The way a contract works is you sign up for missions. The catch is: you never finish your last one, it only gets added onto your next one."

"And you finished your last one."

"They weren't checking as well as they should have." He said. "Rufus said it'd be fine if I took a temporary leave of absence."  
"Before he died?"

"The President isn't dead. Don't let the media fool you."

They sat in silence for a few moments before he continued.

"Reno always knew where I was. It's how our buddy system works. Things are getting hairy now and the new Turks aren't up to snuff. I'm one of the only veterans who is remotely willing to return to the job, let alone has that clause in my contract that allows me to move freely between the spheres."

"Then why did you shut me out?"

"I"m in the same boat you are. I wanted to be done with the Turks because, quite frankly, I like life without it."

"But you can't."

"The past has a funny way of always affecting the present."

This time she held his hands.

"I don't want to drag you into any of this." Rude started to draw circles on her knuckles with his thumb. "Reno pretty much guessed it was you, too."

"We're that obvious, eh?"

"No one could make me as happy as you. He knows that."  
Tifa smiled.

"Tifa," Rude began, the brunette held her hand up before he could continue his thought. She shook her locks out of her face.

"We're two messed up people."

"You shouldn't have to be a part of this. It's late nights, long days, I could get called in for anything. You'd have to sign a lot of non-disclosures if we decide to take things even more serious. It's not that I don't love you; the logistics are what makes it hard."

"I've had to keep plenty of secrets, what are a few more?" Tifa tried not to let the sudden declaration of love catch her off guard. Rude lifted an eyebrow, his own way of urging Tifa to keep talking.

"Tonight was charged with a lot of memories and a lot of sadness. I don't want him in my future. Rude, you are good - albeit a little more quiet than I would prefer, but you care about me. Your occupation doesn't make me love you any less, either."

"It's all been physical between us." Rude's tone was questioning. Tifa couldn't tell if the feelings she had were a romantic love, but he was good to her and listened. That's a lot more than anyone else had given her.  
"So let's change it." Tifa lifted her legs over the other. "If the rest of us can't change, then let's at least be in a healthy relationship, for once."

He looped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a kiss. It was a kiss more innocent than she'd ever had, full of promise and a touch of apprehension for the things to come. Tifa returned it, climbing into his lap and wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Nuh-uh." Rude shook his head and broke his lips away from hers. "I won't let your womanly wiles win over tonight."

"Then what will you do?"

"Ask you questions and give you answers."

"Over anything?"

"Everything."

* * *

Tifa woke up in the same clothes from the night before. She and Rude were a mixture of limbs and the blanket he brought in from the bedroom. They talked until the morning broke and then slept until the knocks on the door jolted her awake. She looked over at her sleeping partner as she raked a hand through her hair and ran toward the door. She glanced through the spy-hole to see Marlene in a pink dress and Barret in flip flops. No blondie anywhere.

Tifa ignored the sinking feeling in her chest by calling for Rude to wake up.

"I want you to meet my friends." She whispered. He nodded, grabbed the blanket, and disappeared to the recesses of the house. Tifa welcomed her guests in and rotated with Rude to change and freshen up from the night before.

"You're coming to the zoo with us, right?" Marlene's big brown eyes fixated on Tifa.

"We both are!" Tifa answered, grabbing Rude's hand and dragging him out the door. The tension between Barret and Rude rivaled the thickness of the humidity, but she felt her lover relax when she pecked his cheek.

"It'll be my turn soon, right?" He whispered into her hair.

She responded with a two finger salute. Her hand dropped only to be intercepted by Marlene. The girls skipped down the driveway and on to the sidewalk. The men trailing behind them. She could hear the awkward attempts at small talk, but she was proud of both of them for trying.

It was when they got to the entrance of the zoo that Barret tapped Tifa on the shoulder.

"He's all-right. I don't trust him, but you've done worse."


	17. The Fork in the Road

Chapter 17: The Fork in the Road

* * *

The rest of week passed by blissfully for the couple with sand filled toes and salty lips. Tifa spent her days split between hammocking with Rude and letting her skin darken to playing with Marlene in the sand and the local aquarium. She never ran into the blonde; Barret hadn't seen him since the night before Marlene's birthday.

"These things happen," He explained, passing off his daughter for another day out with Tifa. "He'll come around soon enough."

Tifa's stomach churned when she realized that Barret hadn't seen the bruise on Cloud's chin. She shook those thoughts away later, when she helped Marlene get the sand out of her shoes.

Rude spent his hours away from Tifa with old Turk friends in the area. It was unspoken rule that the happenings of the day weren't brought up during dinner time, but the smoke smell and the bruises on his torso made it clear that he wasn't lollygagging with a five-year-old. She didn't mind though; they had settled into a good routine of coming in at 6 and dedicating the night to wine and affection. Tifa hadn't felt this relaxed or bronzed in a very long while.

The dreams of those bright blue eyes - whether they were Cloud's or Skye's she couldn't discern anymore - lessened as Rude caressed her with questions about Nibelheim, her parents, and what was on her mind. It's the type of attention that girls crave from birth.

Their week away had to come to an end. Tifa had kissed Marlene goodbye the day before and hugged Barret with several promises to call often. Barret had rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious!"

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"You mean hear it, Papa." Marlene corrected from Tifa's side.

Tifa and Rude hadn't packed much, but he did like to clean his home thoroughly before leaving. Something about a good example for any other tenants, Tifa couldn't remember. He had finished the cleaning the night before, and, once again, spent the day with some unimportant friends in some unimportant bar. Not that it mattered to the brunette, she liked the silence.

Especially when she was up to something romantic.

Rude had a love for seafood that could match a whale's. He spoke with a sense of longing when describing a crab chowder his mother used to make on particularly busy weeks. It was a moment that could make even the coldest girlfriend's heart warm. She found his mother's legacy that same night, tucked away in an ancient recipe box with a signature by Rude's mother, Lupita. She giggled at the idea of a little brown eyed girl with her father's mother's name. They'd have to shorten it for school's sake.

Rude had noticed her giddiness when she pranced to bed that night in a pair of soft pink shorts and a gray tank top. She didn't confess her vision of their future, only that she was very excited to spend one more day with her favorite little girl.

She had lied. It was for a surprise which completely voided the sin. So long as Rude thought she'd spend the afternoon going over primary colors, he'd leave for more reunions.

Sure enough, he locked the door at 12:45 p.m. and Tifa took the last fifteen minutes of the hour to run to the seaside market and pick up everything she needed. She paid with the last of her tip money. The bag wasn't as heavy as she anticipated.

The rest of the afternoon she spent checking over rooms for stray articles of clothing and straightening throw blankets. As the sun drew near the water, she started to attend to the the cursive written recipe card.

She had just finished chopping the basil when the doorbell rang. Tifa looked through the spyhole.

Her heart stopped yet her hands still worked the deadbolt free.

The doorknob turned before she could remember to exhale.

Cloud and the brunette exchanged formalities about the heat. She then invited him into her boyfriend's house. He followed her into the kitchen.

"Nice place." He whistled and surveyed the arrangement of black appliances.

"Family home." Tifa turned her back to him to sprinkle the flecks of the herb in the pale colored bisque. "He rents it out when he's not here."

"I would, too."

Tifa rolled her eyes and scraped the final bits of onion into her recipe and placed the lid over the pot to simmer. She turned around to look at him.

His chin was purple.

"Wouldn't have want to been on the receiving end of that." She laughed at her own joke. He muttered something under his breath that she didn't care to question.

The blonde turned silent.

Cloud pushed off the wall and walked over to an assortment of floral painted china. The china set hid a fully loaded Beretta M9A1. Rude, a known fist fighter, kept the firearm on his body at most times. Tifa found it by accident during an attack of roaming hands during a trip to the movie theatre. Since then, she posed the question regarding the bulge in his pants half-kidding but still fully serious. He hid it in the kitchen because his family's fully loaded gun cabinet joined them in the bedroom.

Tifa now wished she had hidden it in the nightstand.

The blonde, however, didn't reach for the pistol. He also didn't make any indication of its existence. Instead, the wiry muscles reached for the small polaroid sitting by the butter dish. It was taken during a happy time for the new couple.

"Is purple your favorite color or something?" He motioned to the image, in which she wore a purple dress, and then to her violet stained nails and toes.

"You didn't come over to ask about my preferences." The smell of boiling crab made her mouth water.

He was silent. She studied his eyes, colder and harder than she remembered,

"You know," Cloud set the image in front of the dishset ask he spoke. His eyes looked away from her rigid body. "Barret told me."

She didn't need to press further.

"Friends share friends whereabouts and whatabouts." Her arms crossed over her chest to hide the shaking skin. His words could still pierce through her toughest his armor.

His silence dealt more powerful blows. The cerulean blue eyes locked on her, yet Tifa still had the feeling that they weren't really looking at her. She didn't want to turn her back to him - he was a traitor not to be trusted.

 _Was he ever a friend?_ The question hung in her ears as she thought of the smaller Cloud - before he shipped off to SOLDIER. The class reject with the whore mother who didn't even have the sense to lock down her baby daddy.

She kissed him once before he left. He had saved her life.

Yet she had never bothered to even clear his name.

"Unless there's someone else." His voice implied more. She didn't answer. Tifa turned around and stirred her food. Cloud's breath punctuated the air.

"What are you talking about?" She asked after moments.

"Tifa. Come on."

She turned around and met his blue eyes.

"He's a Turk."

"You were a SOLDIER reject. An experiment gone terribly wrong. You're also an intruder."

"You invited me in." His voice dripped with double entendre. "You should've learned your lesson."

"I did. That's why I'm not in the danky bungalow with you anymore."

"You picked that bungalow!"

Tifa put the boiling pot on a cold burner. She felt his eyes on her back.

"What's this really about?"

"Why Rude?" This time his arms crossed around his chest. His voice raised an octave.

"Jealous, Strife?"

He arched an eyebrow. She noticed his fingers jittered together and his eyes, while focused on her chest, seemed to be elsewhere.

"No." He spoke after too long of a pause. "I just worry about a friend who is whoring herself out for nice things."

Tifa ignored everything he said. She placed a hand on the kitchen timer to her left. She fiddled with it as he spoke.

"You cut out Barret, Marlene, and me. I'm assuming everyone else isn't good enough for your new life, either. You hair looks awful. Y-"

The crashing sound of plastic meeting tile stopped his sentence. Three plates of Lupita's hand-painted china broke when Cloud jumped back and kicked the timer into the wall.

It exploded into a thousand little pieces. He collapsed against the wall. The Beretta fell from its hiding place. Tifa jumped for it before it could hit the floor, she didn't trust the "safety" feature.

She straightened up and realized that the barrel of the gun pointed right at the blonde. She set it on the kitchen table facing toward the window before he tipped over the refrigerator.

"You need help." She hoped her voice sounded more caring than condescending.

Cloud's alert blue eyes dimmed. He backed away and tried to scurry out of the front door. The lock didn't budge.

It took all the strength left in her tired body to ram the 5'7" man into the wall and lock his neck in the crook of her elbow.

"Why is it that we resort to violence every time we see each other?" Tifa asked the air when Cloud slumped into her arms.

"You start it."

Tifa discarded his limp body on the couch. He still wheezed for air when she came back with the ice pack. He applied it to his neck.

"Still have one helluva choke hold."

"You've never even seen my best work." She thought of those long nights listening to ShinRa executives sharing secrets in Wall Market.

"I never want to."

"I won't take it personally."

"They say it's a problem sorting everything out." He spoke with distance in his voice, "Too much happenin' in the brain."

"It's been a year."

"That's the hard part." Tifa resisted the urge to sit down.

"Time goes on."

"Yet here we are still speaking in proverbs." Cloud pushed off the couch, a dark green line formed on the side of his throat. He touched the tip of her chin with his forefinger and thumb before pushing out the door.

"Give my best to the suit."

It was like catching the wind.

* * *

She had considered following him for only a second, but the soup was losing heat and Rude still wasn't home. She set the burner on low and cleaned the small mess in the kitchen. She'd have to explain the missing plates later. There'd be another lie.

Tifa deposited the shards in the trash and stashed the gun. She stirred the soup one last time before moving to the shower. Some of Cloud's musky citrus scent had transferred into the ends of her hair. The vanilla body wash did wonders to her spirit and coaxed Tifa into changing into a purple babydoll set and shaking some body into her limp hair.

"Is purple your favorite color?" She mocked to her reflection. It was her last night in Costa del Sol and he had to show his face.

The front door opened before she could give him any more thought.

The rest of her night went better than expected. Rude loved the surprise and rewarded her with a night full of physical exhaustion. He passed out; she tossed and turned.

Rude was a good sleeping partner. The thick body with the wide-set shoulders laid perfectly still and kept the area warm. Tifa hadn't been the greatest sleeper, but lying beside him didn't help the situation, either.

He slept on his side facing away from the brunette. She glanced around the dark room and tried not to think of her afternoon. She told Rude she knocked down a part of the cupboard and he confided in her that the plates were on the way out.

She threw her head against the pillow. She should have told him the truth. Skye was a topic that left Rude in five minutes. Cloud left his mind even quicker.

She wondered if how he would react if he knew the blonde had visited today.

The blue light emitted from her phone. A text message from Barret.

 _Marlene named all the primary colors on the way home and up until bedtime. Guess who's painting tomorrow?_

She smirked a little and responded quickly. She posed a simple, small question.

 _Will you give my number to Cloud? I feel like he needs someone_.

Barret responded the next morning with Cloud's own string of numbers.


	18. Togetherness

Chapter 18: Togetherness.

* * *

Rude promised her a year of duty - nothing more and nothing less. He braided the soft vows in her hair when she brushed it the night before his day back. She tried to sleep that night, but her heart thudded against her ribs. He woke at four and moved with the shower steam.

The tie emphasized the width of Rude's neck and the suit hugged close enough to act like skin. Tifa watched him stand before the full-length mirror behind the door and straighten the shoulders. He tried to be quiet, but his stoic, palpable excitement had a 30 feet radius.

He dressed in the dark relying on the moon to highlight any lint that may have nested in the wool during his recess. Tifa looked at him through half-shut eyes. Her head hurt from travelling all day yesterday and her heart lurched when she tried to participate in his excitement.

Rude had stayed quiet about starting again with the Turks, but Tifa knew his mannerisms enough to tell he was excited - the fidgeting fingers against the rail of the ferry to the jiggling knee in the car. This morning he stayed calm enough to button the suit jacket and straighten out his shoe laces. He did have a reputation to uphold.

She closed her eyes before noticing the shift on the bed. Rude, in black suit and everything, crawled over to the resting brunette. He planted a kiss on her cheek. He smelled like her coconut body scrub and his aftershave.

"It's only a year, right?" The muscles under his skin tightened. He didn't expect her to be awake.

"365 days. I love you."

"You too." She yawned and pretended to fall back asleep. She heard the heavy door shut behind him. He had promises to keep. Most weren't made to her.

Rude explained the Turk selection runs three ways: the Academy route where they feed you propaganda for lunch and fight for homework, the walk-in route with three weeks in a dark training facility off the coast of Wutai with little to eat and no sleep. The deal route - "criminals make some of the best agents."

Rude was option three. The deal route - "criminals make some of the best agents." Tifa didn't press further when he said it wasn't murder or arson. She only imagined a skinnier, shorter version of him stealing out of drastic measures.

Then she remembered his childhood home. There was no reason to steal.

During a somewhat happy time in Kalm, when AVALANCHE existed, Cloud confessed stealing her underwear. It was a bra with extra support. Her father had to order it from a catalogue and it cost more than their grocery bill. She had hated the bra: the underwire dug into her ribs and made her silhouette look bulky.

The brunette threw her head against the pillow and groaned. Laughter spilled out of her lips immediately when she thought of his neck dropping and the flush of red across his teeth as he confessed.

She forgave him then, but never told him. Those were one of her few happy memories of Cloud.

She took in the surroundings of Rude, she shook her head to correct herself, their apartment. That was another decision he made - it was a combination of the security of his building versus hers, and the vicinity of their jobs. His undisclosed work location set him an hour away from Tifa's one bedroom in the outskirts of town. His place was beautiful with hardwood floors and soft lighting.

"My place." She scolded herself. She flipped over, her body loving the feeling of the high thread count and exhaled into the lavender-scented pillow. She had accepted his proposal the second he mentioned it during their trip back to Edge - back home. Home - the down feather stuffed pillows that felt heavenly against her tight shoulders. Home - stainless steel appliances and gourmet coffee. Home - where she nested with the solid, honey scented man with the ambrosia lips and distant voice.

 _What a lucky girl you are_. The thought haunted her, braiding the words into her eyelashes as they closed and worked their way to her pulse. Within seconds, the first solid sleep in a very long time drifted over her, carrying her away with the circling the fan.

Rude sent her a message before the start of her first lunch shift since she got back. He wrote that he missed her. Tifa tucked the phone away into the back of her pocket without responding.

"You're glowing!" Vanessa's cool voice wrapped around the hug they exchanged. She still looked like a statue with her strong jaw line and long neck. Dee had told Tifa once that her the woman studied ballet for 18 years, then she met her father and popped her only daughter out 18 months later.

"How was the week without me?" Tifa asked the question mostly out of niceties. She expected the regular responses.

"I took the last three days to visit my Deirdre." She announced while gathering her clipboard off the counter. "It gets lonely here without you girls."

"Is your husband still in Kalm?"

"Mideel, for now. Who knows what else after that?"

Tifa didn't know much about Mr. Clements other than he specialized in palliative care and had been the personal doctor for the former president's, Daddy Shinra's, second wife. He'd been away for a while treating high profile clients with a skin disease.

"You spend thirty years working, retire, and find you miss working." The older blonde woman clucked her tongue and wrote something onto her pad. She then patted Tifa's shoulder and gave her a smile. Tifa watched her skirt glide through the air as she walked away.

She missed Dee, too. Her little observations and conversations about boys always made for a good distraction.

Tifa shook her head and busied herself by scrubbing the bar. Some patrons came and went, most noted her browned nose as an oddity for the middle of January.

"Romantic getaway." She shrugged her shoulders each time and pretended not to notice the men shifting away from her. The women didn't pay her much mind.

Her shift ended at a prompt 6 p.m.. Her truck felt frosty with the wind chill that punctuated the coldest month of the year. The engine turned over with no problem, and she sat in the idling truck until the air blew warm.

The pressure of the phone dug into her hip. She pulled it out without much thought and glanced at the screen.

The 37 placed calls to the 7 digit number taunted her.


	19. Pushing Daisies

Chapter 19: Pushing Daisies

* * *

Fenrir had been his gift to himself – a reward for not dying. The down payment was a year's worth of gil and the salesman worked out a 40-month payment plan. That all changed when Tifa's birthday rolled around and she handed him the notice of final payment on the bike. It hadn't been only her money, thankfully: it had been a 1/3 of all the gil the rest of their friends had saved up. It was their way of saying thanks.

The motorcycle proved to be impractical in the cooler climate of Kalm, but he couldn't bring himself to take public transport so he braved the cold in his darker clothes and goggles from a second-hand store. Who would have thought a year from now he'd still be riding Fenrir – just on a different continent.

He'd spent the last few nights in an inn off the highway in Cosmo Canyon. He frequented the bar one night but the pretty, dark haired girls were a little too close for comfort. He spent the rest of his time sleeping away memories of crimson eyes and pink dresses. In three days, he decided to get back on the road and headed Northwest.

It wasn't until the air grew cooler and the sun began to disappear that he realized where he was going. He saw the beginnings of fresh snow in the skies just a few miles before his destination. He hated snow, but there was nowhere else to go.

Those were the same words his mother said the day when they arrived in Nibelheim. They had been living in a shelter in the outskirts of Cosmo Canyon and she worked nights at a gas station. She came home that morning, her bright blonde hair wasn't fastened in the normal bun she sported but in a loose braid, she smiled at him. Cloud remembered that he had never noticed how straight her teeth were before that moment.

"Mom?" He had whispered, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Wake up, my darling." She cooed, the lightness in her voice obvious. "I'm taking you on an adventure!" She then began to pack their belongings – the clothes and little odds and ends – into a traveler's bag. Emily told him of the new house they had with new pipes and central air as she wiped his face with a cotton towel. He was more shocked by his mom using such a nice item on his face rather than the announcement of their move. Maybe the reality of the situation didn't hit him at the time, Cloud couldn't remember.

Emily dragged the bag and her son to a bus station before the sun rose. She situated him on the ripped leather seat with one of her red sweaters wrapped around his small body. He remembered the feeling of her soft hands stroking his hair long after he fell asleep for the second time that morning. He woke intermittently only to be cooed back to sleep by his mom's soft voice and the vibrations on the bus. When they reached their destinations, the blonde woman tapped her son's shoulders and made him stretch.

"Look out the window." She urged in a whisper, her eyes scanning the other passengers. Her hands worked to fold her sweater and place her book back in her bag in seconds.

The scene before him was unfamiliar and far too green. There were small, red roofed houses nestled between tall mountains, daisies, and white fences. He missed the red dirt of Cosmo Canyon. His mother must have read his mind, because she told him, at a normal volume this time, that moving here would save her laundry and water bills. He scanned, there was no dirt in between the fence lines and the welcome mats looked swept.

Emily grabbed Cloud's hand and pushed forward the other passengers getting off the bus. Cloud stepped off the stairs while his mom finished paying and grabbing her things. He saw the brown wooden sign before him and the neat white letters displaying "NIBELHEIM – Pop. 1200." He breathed in the air, noticing the chill fill his lungs.

His mother stepped off the bus and followed his lead, she overdramatized her inhales and exhales.

"Smell that clean, mountain air! Look at this lovely morning fog."

"Fog is scary."

"Fog is not scary!" She fussed as she shouldered her bag and reached for her son's hand. "Fog is a sign of renewal. Good things come from fog."

"Yeah, like ghost stories."

"Cloud Strife." She needn't say more than pop his shoulder with the base of her wrist. She then moved that same hand to her pocket and fished for a folded up piece of paper. The two stopped at the entrance of the town so she could read the page's contents. She then pushed her son forward and told him to walk to the left of the road. His hand reached for hers.

"Cloud, you're going to love it here." She whispered during their walk. "Good schools, good air. I would have loved something like this at your age."

He didn't say anything.

She stopped her son and turned to face an imposing looking building boasting the same red shingles. Emily gave her son a little push inside.

"What's this place, mom?" Cloud surveyed the wood floors and large fireplace.

"It's our new home, silly!"

"Forever?"

"Hopefully." She said, kneeling down to her son's level. "It's a bad idea to give up something like this, don't you think?"

He shrugged. The blonde woman wrapped her son in a tight hug and kissed his cheek. He almost missed her whisper into his ear the one thing he forgot.

"Happy birthday, Cloud!"

 **_0_0_0_0_0_0_0**

He pulled into the same white fences and red shingled town. The doors were ajar and dirt covered windows. The town had vacated after last year. He heard Shinra couldn't fund the façade anymore.

He didn't go into the two story house his mother spent three years working toward via late nights at the gas station and a very generous mortgage. He'd never be able to go in. He drove past the well and the mansion. Instead he drove to the white picket cemetery and parked at the very last spot in the port. He didn't bother walking up to the gate. Instead, he jumped the fence, making sure to trample on some old family grave of Johnny's, and strolled over to the small headstone in the furthest corner.

 _Emily Hannah Strife_

 _4/5/1970-09/22/0002_

He didn't have enough money to erect a proper epitaph. His fingers worked into the ground for the fifth time to write: "always missed."

Cloud leaned back and admired the life of the woman under the dirt. She told him that his father died while working on a submarine and hated that he'd never see Cloud grow up. It wasn't until he saw his Shinra file that he learned his father – Scott Tyler, was a drunkard last seen in Wutai three days before Cloud's eighth birthday. He never knew about his failed son.

The blonde man exhaled thinking about his mother's long skirts. She picked up work as a maid at the local inn, but it didn't help her reputation throughout the town. The memories of school teachers turning their noses up to his mom when she explained she didn't have any help raising Cloud made him stop fighting on the playground – unless someone made fun of his mother, then it the fists came out.

He surveyed the graveyard, slightly impressed that it still stood. Shinra tried to keep the incident hushed, offering to bury the dead for a free if the family members agreed to change the date of their demise. Cloud and Tifa both refused when they finally had a chance and erected proper graves for their families shortly after the defeat of Sephiroth. Tifa had a notarized will with a certain amount of money set aside or the Lockhart plot – she offered to bury Emily with them, but Cloud refused.

He looked over to the Lockhart plot in the middle of the graveyard. They had always been a respected family, so it made sense for the large marble headstones and poetry engraved under the dates of their lives. There were two large stones marking the places of Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart. The obvious space in the middle represented Tifa's final resting place.

That's when he noticed the much smaller headstone off center of where Tifa's feet would be in about 50 years. Without thinking, he pushed off the ground and started toward the grave, feeling both drawn and intrigued by the smaller headstone.

Weeds covered the front that the blonde quickly ripped off. He noticed the dates: July 2nd, 0008 – July 23rd 0008. A child. No, not a child – a baby.

He brushed off the rest of the weeds at a rapid pace he didn't understand. The name engraved in the white marble made his heart stop.

 _Skye Emily Lockhart_

The air flew out of his nostrils. He struggled to stand up and started back toward Fenrir. His hand flew into the saddlebag, pulling out the black flip phone. He saw the thirty-nine missed calls from the seven-digit phone number. It had to be Tifa. No one could miss a hint like her.

His thumb hovered over the button to call her back. His muscles froze. He finally shook his head to himself and pocketed the phone. He walked the bike back to the small city center with his hands on the handlebars in a vice grip.

There was no way he could work up the courage to go back into his mother's home now. He shook the lock on Tifa's old childhood home until the rusted out contraption broke from the movement. He pushed into the house and collapsed on the couch.

His mind added the dates together, the last time he was with Tifa, the only time, was in late January. A year ago. She shouldn't have had that baby until October, at least. She was premature – probably because of the stress Tifa went through keeping this secret to herself.

She killed their baby.

* * *

Rude's first day back ended with him walking through their door at midnight and then finally going to sleep around 1:30 a.m. smelling of enthused sex. Tifa slept through his alarm and didn't remember he had gone until she saw the leftovers from last night's dinner, along with any other food, missing from the refrigerator.

She considered getting a list together and going grocery shopping, but the awkwardness of the situation stopped herself. Yeah, they were living together, but does that mean she does the grocery shopping? What if he had some weird yet fatal food allergy that she didn't know about? Did she pay with her money?

"For two people who love each other we certainly don't have this relationship thing together." She muttered to herself. She smiled at herself when she caught the joke. It was the story of her life.

She reached for her own phone, planning on texting Rude but decided against it because, for one, he could be undercover and his phone going off would cost him his life, and two, she still couldn't get over the fact that she stressed over grocery shopping for her boyfriend.

This made her stomach lurch. She could call Cloud without thought and fill his voicemail yet still didn't feel comfortable texting her live-in partner to see if he had a nut allergy. She knew Rude needed to know this.

With resolve, she grabbed a piece of lined paper. She printed the date across the top of the paper – January 20th and then stopped. Skye's conception date – give or take a few hours. This time last year, she was with the little ragtag group she came to know as friends facing death head on.

Actually, she was getting ready to get a rare type of hay burn on the small of her back. Not that she knew that at the time the night was going to end with giving life and not taking it.

She sighed and lifted the end of her shirt, staring at the only prominent stretch mark Skye left. She was such a tiny baby and Tifa barely finished her sixth month when she went into labor. The damage to her body had been minimal.

"You'll never let me forget you, will you?" She sighed staring at the white mark barely scarring her skin. She lowered the fabric back over the mark and returned to her list, focusing more intently on writing "Milk" than she should.

* * *

 _I am so sorry for the delay in chapters. It's been a stressful last two weeks, so FALW (Now known as "Exit Wounds") had to be on the back burner. So here's to chapters to make up for it!_

 __CD_


	20. Rescue Breaths

**Chapter 20: Rescue Breaths**

* * *

Blood and bleach attacked Tifa's nostrils long before she unlatched the heavy oak door to the apartment. The voices she heard before she turned the key traveled down her ears and curdled in her stomach. She had been dreading this day: meet the coworkers outside of a battle day.

Well, it was actually night. She glanced at the yellow gold men's watch on her wrist. She had opted to stay late because of Rude's schedule. She wished she had a pair of headphones or something. Anything to look like she could be shocked by the unexpected house guests – pleasantly, of course. She ran a free hand through her hair and twisted the knob.

Her nose wrinkled further when she pushed the door open. It was a look her mom once fussed about when she had to hug a sickly grandmother. It had been one of the only vivid memories she had concerning the raven haired woman.

 _"If your face froze like that no man will ever love you."_

The first thing she saw was Rude's smile and the smugness infected that memory like a virus. Her eyes shifted from his straight teeth to the gargantuan flesh wound over his well-defined abdomen.

"I take it you like the new cologne?" Tifa rolled her eyes. She heard the sink turn off in the kitchen.

"I take it the other person looks a lot worse?" It had been the only time Tifa had ever brought up his job. However, she figured, when her boyfriend was bleeding on the coffee table an _Office Space_ reference would be crass. Especially when there was another Turk, who didn't know the intricacies of their relationship, making another horrible smelling concoction in the adjacent room. Rude answered her with a weaker smile than normal. Tifa felt her instincts from last year kick in – the various cuts, wounds, and concussions she and Aerith paired up to heal. Tifa applied pressure or CPR techniques and Aerith would dress wounds, administered Cure materia, or offer comforting words. Yuffie tried to help after Aerith's death, but her hands shook and she hated the sight of blood. Often, the little ninja would faint from her own issues with anemia before having the chance to check on any of her battle mates.

"Has the bleeding stopped?" Tifa set down her black bag by the door and rolled the sleeves of her plaid button up. She couldn't miss Rude starting to push away from her, but he stopped – out of pain or love she didn't know – and placed his head back on the table.

"I don't know." His breath wavered. Tifa folded her legs over the other on the wooden floor, turning his head to face hers. She pointed to the crashing sounds in the kitchen with an inquisitive look. Rude shook his head and mouthed the name.

Tifa breathed out in relief and frustration. The flannel came off her torso with ease and left her in her black v-neck. She reached into Rude's pocket and pulled out the knife he kept when it wasn't appropriate to carry the gun. She ripped through the fabric with the blade and began to apply pressure to the wound. The blood soaked through the severed sleeve.

"You're lucky you haven't gone into shock yet." She scolded and snapped another piece of the shirt. She applied the second layer of makeshift dressing and added more pressure to his abdomen. She checked for any paleness or otherwise abnormalities to Rude's body. Nothing so far.

"I like this view." Rude remarked. Tifa hovered over him to add more body weight to the wound. It just so happened that he could see the lacy bra through the space in her shirt.

"Glad to know you're not seriously injured." Another crash from the kitchen almost made Tifa call out to the visitor. Rude grimaced, understanding her dislike of loud, sudden noises. His large hand closed over her left wrist and his eyes looked up at her sympathetically. Tifa's heart skipped a beat.

"I can't find the first aid kit, but I do have more bleach!" His black sunglasses covered his eyes, so Tifa couldn't read his expression. She fought the daggers in her eyes and tried to breathe. Granted, she'd take Elena right now over Reno or, even worse, Tseng, but she was a Turk for goodness sake. She should know proper first aid.

"Hall closet." Tifa spoke through gritted teeth but didn't look at the blonde. The sound of the opening and closing of the door settled her nerves. Elena placed the blue box in Tifa's outstretched palm. The bleeding had subsided.

"Ok. Since I didn't have sterile dressing, I'll have to clean it." Tifa flipped her black hair over the shoulder and poured hydrogen peroxide into a cotton swab. She applied the medicine without warning. Rude's abs tightened, but he stayed silent. She felt Elena's eyes on her. The raven haired nurse glanced up once to meet the brown eyes studying her with an intensity verging on uncomfortable. Tifa kept her eyes on the other woman. She disposed the dirty swab when Elena finally looked away.

Five minutes later, the wound was cleaned and dressed. Elena came from the bedroom with a throw blanket. The women worked to move Rude onto the love seat and wrapped him in the fleece.

"Is it safe to go to sleep now?" He spoke to Tifa, but they felt Elena in the room watching the pair interact with one another. Tifa placed a hand on Rude's cheek before nodding. He fell asleep in seconds. Tifa lifted off the floor and began to gather the bloody pieces of fabric around the living room.

"I-it was a bad fi-" Elena began, her voice cracking. Tifa held up a hand and kept her eyes focused on the sleeping man in the room.

"We don't talk about it, Elena." Tifa threw the pieces into the small plastic bag before zipping the contents closed. She flashed the blonde a small grin before asking her to help clean up the bleach and water smell.

"You don't talk about it at all?" Elena handed her the full bucket.

"Nope." She didn't need Elena's disapproval to know how wrong it sounded. Tifa washed the conversation down the sink.

* * *

"I'm sorry, sir." A woman with thick rimmed glasses looked up to Cloud once more. Her eyes didn't even scan through the file in her hand. "But I can't give you this kind of information."

"Her name is Skye Emily Lockhart. She died July 23rd of last year and I just need to see who the father is listed as." Cloud felt his hands ball into fists under the counter. He thought the free clinic would be his safest bet because, quite frankly, they were overloaded with patients to care about ethics. He was wrong, though. This woman wouldn't budge.

"If you don't know her security number and don't have her birth certificate then I can't help you."

Cloud's fist met the counter top of the reception desk. He felt the glass break, but he didn't care about the skin on his knuckle. He didn't turn around to know that security tightened around him. One even went so far as to grab his arm. This boiled Cloud's blood and he shoved the guard into the far corner of the wall.

The small waiting area made a collective gasp and another guard started toward Cloud. He placed a hand into the oncoming guard's chest. He pushed him back into a chair with two fingers. Cloud turned around and faced the receptionist. Her green eyes were frightened by the movements.

"I-I still can't give you the information, sir."

"Is there someone who can?" Cloud gritted his teeth. The woman's long fingernails clacked on the keys of her computer.

"The doctor who delivered the baby is in. She's in her office." The receptionist scrawled a name on a purple sticky note and handed it to the blonde.

Cloud didn't ask any further, he only pushed through the doors and began to walk down the row of offices. He stopped at the one labeled "TOBEY." He knocked twice before a soft voice from within yelled for the blonde, who hadn't shaved in three days, to come in.

"Why, I remember you!" The doctor began. She was an elderly lady with gray hair piled on her head and purple glasses. "You're – oh don't tell me your name. It had something to do with the weather. Sun? No. Moon? No that's not it, is it? Oh! I got i-"

"Cloud."

"I was going to say that, young man." The doctor clucked her tongue. "I haven't seen you since your psych evaluation. I take it you didn't pursue therapy." She motioned to her phone with her eyes, no doubt there had just been a security call.

"I went for my own kind of therapy." Cloud took a seat in a leather chair across from the doctor's desk. "You deliver babies, too?"

"I do it all. Not enough funding from the WRO for actual specialists so I just do what I can. It's a lot of reading old textbooks, new textbooks, consulting with experts. Even though, they're a joke. I just got off the phone with some 'pain' expert in Mideel. Ha! What a crock. He thinks lack of mobility will subside all pain." She rolled her eyes and took a bite of an apple as she spoke. "And I told him, 'no, sir. The patient must embrace the pain. That's how we live.'"

"You are the clichéd crazy old lady, aren't you?"

"But in a doctor's white coat. Anyway, what can I help you with?"

"I need to know about a baby you delivered about six months ago." Cloud shifted in his chair as he spoke, realizing the awkwardness of this whole mess.

"I deliver a lot of babies – especially during that summer. You need to be more specific."

"Skye Emily Lockhart. She was born July 2nd – "

"Died three weeks later." Tobey finished solemnly. She threw away her apple core and wiped her hands on a moist toilette. "She was a pretty baby. So focused! I told her mom what Skye lacked in timeliness and size, she made up for in smarts."

"What did she die of, exactly?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Me."  
"And who are you?"

"The father."

Dr. Tobey's eyes grew wide. She pushed from her desk and reached for a manila envelope in her bookshelf. She opened the contents, which were a lot of official looking documents, and thumbed through them. She pulled out a white sheet of paper and her reading glasses.

"The mother signed a form when she first came in here. There are a lot of forms for parents to sign, especially young, single mothers who claim they don't know who the father is."


	21. False Negative

**Chapter Twenty-One: False Negative.**

* * *

Tifa loved to do dishes. It was her only claim to domesticity besides being able to bookkeep well enough to keep a low priced bar in the slums thriving for three years. The sound of the water splashing against the basin of the sink, the feeling of warm water rich with bleach and detergent against her hands, and, the best part, the complete mindlessness of scrubbing, rinsing, and drying. It soothed her mind.

She had offered to come in earlier to the pub without clocking in to deep clean the dishes. Vanessa had mended the offer to keep her on the clock and gladly welcomed her in. She sat in her office with the door ajar. Sometimes the older woman made small talk, but she knew her bar tender treated this moment like religious revelation and kept the comments brief enough to where "yeah," or "I know," to be acceptable answers. The owner liked the company and the sound of dishes swoosh in the water.

Tifa began her morning shifts within three days after Rude's wound healed. He had been back at work within six hours of Tifa's help. She didn't try to protest. She only listened as he shuffled around the room their room that morning, the sound of the tying of his shoes and fastening her belt relieved her in a way she hated to admit. Him leaving meant she could sleep. It was the sound of their silent apartment during the morning that drove her to ask Vanessa if she could work more.

She finished drying the last dish with the microfiber towel and placed it on the rack. She turned her head and glanced up at the digital wall clock. _9:45 a.m._ – fifteen minutes until opening time. She crossed through the kitchen and leaned on the doorway.

"Dishes are done!" She announced. Vanessa looked almost regal with her brown hair looped into a low bun and her strong chin resting in her hand. She glanced up at the brunette hanging off her door. Her hazel eyes focused on Tifa longer than she liked.

"I don't know what you're doing to your skin, but it's positively glowing." Tifa's hand flew to her cheeks. The skin felt smooth, but she never had acne problems.

"Um… just soap and water."

"Some soap."

"Well, my boyfriend and I moved in together a few weeks ago. He likes a higher-end brand than I do."

"All men do. They go for the glass bottles and not the price." Tifa grinned to herself thinking about Cloud and his routine of plain water on his entire body. She took this time to survey Vanessa's office – which was four walls of filing cabinets, a small computer, and telephone. Beside the monitor was a photo of Vanessa, Dee, and a man Tifa hadn't seen before.

"Is that where Dee gets her blonde hair?" Tifa nodded to the photo, the man was blonde and tall like Vanessa.

"Yes, she's a spitting image of her daddy. She has my sister's personality – hopefully that won't hurt her in the future."

Tifa smiled before pushing off the doorway. She heard papers shuffle and Vanessa cleared her throat.

"Did you get extensions?"

Tifa's hand now flew up to her hair, which did feel thicker and brushed far past her collarbone than it had in December.

"Oh no. I guess the hair just grew."

"Hmm." Vanessa removed her reading glasses to study the twenty-something. Her eyes caught sight of her watch. "Time to open up." She lifted off her seat and brushed past Tifa in a lavender scented, gray maxi skirt wake. Tifa didn't follow behind her. She still gripped the door way and consider these observations.

"No." She stared at her stomach as she spoke. "No you are not."

* * *

Her work day ended in the mid-afternoon. She came home, showered, and changed into a pair of black leggings and a white tee shirt. She burrowed into a white throw blanket and turned the 63-inch television on. She browned meat and assemble ingredients of chili into the slow cooker, planning to make the most out of this bitterly cold afternoon.

The chili was thirty minutes from being done when Rude walked in the door. His sunglasses were still on, but his eyebrow did raise.

"Reno's going to be here in fifteen minutes. I have to be in Wutai for the next two weeks. Special orders." Tifa blinked and couldn't process either bits of information fast enough for Rude. He took long strides to their bedroom, his brunette lover trailed in the wake.

"Two weeks?"

"Surveillance." Rude shrugged. He had opened his closet and pulled out a black roll-on bag. No doubt Turks only carried on luggage. Tifa didn't help him pack a week's worth of clothes. He must've assumed there would be a laundry service. Which means he's been on this mission before. The image of him on the coffee table bleeding all over the place conjured into TIfa's mind. She shook it away; the black hair fell in her face.

"Everything all right?" Rude's voice, smooth as ever, unnerved her.

"It's just… well…" Her fingers twirled around loose tendrils. "I miss you."

Rude's back straightened when her lips admitted the confession. His hands dropped the pair of black pants into the suitcase. The suit he wore tightened around his muscles as he shifted on to the bed. Tifa tried not to notice his wince when he bent his oblique muscles.

Rude's large hands patted the space beside him. Tifa accepted the invitation and sat with her legs folded. The two let out held breaths at the same time.

"It's been a weird couple of weeks." Tifa was the first one to speak.

"Everything has been fast paced."

"And we don't talk about anything."

" _You_ made that decision."

Tifa huffed and crossed her arms. "What am I supposed to do, Rude? I can't fully support what you do, but I care about you being happy."

"I'm not the one who dropped the plate, Teef." Her heart vibrated against her ribcage. Sector 7 had been a topic she never brought up. Even when Rude asked about Seventh Heaven, she kept the language vague and detached. Her mind drifted to Jessie, Wedge, and all the old patrons who died that day.

She had fought alongside Cloud that day.

The dull pain in her arm subsided when she unclenched her nails from the skin. Her eyes focused on the quilt on the bed. The words clung to the back of her throat, thick as molasses.

She didn't get to say them. Rude's hands, impossibly warm given the near-freezing temperatures outside, cupped her chin and lifted her neck up. Her eyes followed with reluctance. He didn't say anything, only placed a whispering kiss on her forehead and then moving his hands to close around her waist.

"I – I…" She tried, but her voice broke.

"I know." He whispered into her hair.

"I want to make this work." She pulled away to face him. Her hands moved the sunglasses so she could see his eyes.

"It's hard." He finished for her.

"We're in the most unideal situation." Tifa laughed, shaking her head into her hands. Rude covered her arms with his own so she could still look at him. Rude breathed a smile. His eyes focused on the clock behind her.

"Fuck. Babe –"

"I know." She lifted off the bed and handed him his glasses back. "Duty calls."

"As much as I'm sure you want to see Reno, he doesn't have a sense of social intelligence and would walk in in the middle of a heart to heart."

"Ugh. I forgot about him."

"You can stay in here. We're literally going to check weapons and leave."

"No. No." Tifa shook her head. "We're a thing now. They're your friends."

His grin was almost infectious. Rude's arms wrapped around her again and pulled her into his woodsy scent.

"I promise we'll talk about this when I get back." He kissed her full on the mouth. Tifa felt her knees almost give. Her thoughts reminded her of their imminent house guest and she pulled away. Rude looked at her quizzically.

"I should put on a bra, shouldn't I?"

"Yes." He spoke out of a reflex. He regarded her one time. "Oh God, please do. I don't want to knock out my partner."

Five minutes later, Rude's packed bag sat near the door and a decent Tifa laid with her legs sprawled on Rude's lap. The knock on the door didn't alert either them. In fact, it was the brunette half asleep on the couch who called for the guest to come in. She caught Rude's pearl colored teeth bite down on his lip. She met his gaze with a wink.

Reno opened the door the way he tucked in his shirt – lackadaisical. The couple both caught the hesitation when the bright blue eyes caught the scene of two lovers reclining on the couch. Rude shook Tifa's knee and she removed them from his lap. He then walked down the hallway and opened the closet door. Reno didn't follow.

"New hair?" He spoke directly to Tifa.

"Needed something new."

"I'll say."

Tifa's lips tightened.

Rude came back quickly with another small black bag. The men spoke to each other and then grabbed their bags. Reno started down the hallway, but Rude lingered. He motioned Tifa over to her.

"Before I forget," he pulled out his wallet and handed a matte, black card to her.

"I can't accept your credit card!"

"Think of it as emergencies only. I feel bad leaving you alone for two weeks with all these issues to sort through."

Tifa sighed before wrapping her hands around the card. Rude gave her another kiss before leaving. The door shut behind him with a thud.

She glanced at the card and moved it between her hands. She placed it in her wallet on the table near the door before returning to her chili and evening of television.

* * *

A sharp ringing sound woke Tifa out of her sleep. She half stretched and sorted her surroundings. She had fallen asleep on the couch with the TV on. An empty bowl sat on the glass coffee table.

She reached for the phone half-expecting it to be Rude and half-hoping that it was someone else. The pit in her stomach chastised her as she imagined the blonde who could be on the other end of the line.

 _Hypocrite_.

She hated herself even more when she saw the name flashing across the screen.

"Dee! It's been forever."  
"I-I know." A pause. "Um… listen: I'm at your apartment but it's all dark and I'm scared. Can you let me in?"

"I moved." She relayed her address.

"O- ok." Dee whispered. Her voice broke.

"Are you ok?"

"Is it ok if I come over?"

Tifa affirmed that she could before flipping her phone shut. She turned the pot of chili back on and folded the throw blanket.

"You are ridiculous." She fussed at herself when the sinking feeling in her gut wouldn't go away. "And a hypocrite." She fluffed out a throw pillow extra hard. How could she still want Cloud? She hadn't seen him in a month. She hadn't slept with him in a year.

"Why is it that when I step forward I want to take five steps back?" She groaned into the empty air of the apartment. She could feel the walls begin to close in on her when she opened the hall closet to deposit a pair of shoes hanging around the door.

The box with the big block letters taunted her. _SEL_. Tifa let out another groan. She thought back to the comments Vanessa made this morning – the glowing skin, the growing hair. Could it be possible? She glanced at her stomach and mentally recalled the last time she went through a cycle.

"It's too soon to tell." She whispered to herself.

There were three knocks on the door and Tifa gladly welcomed the distraction. She unlatched the door.

Dee turned around, her hands fidgeted in the other and her skin was damp. Wisps of blonde hair stuck on her eyelashes, she tried to bat them away but the mixture of sweat, tears, and mascara made a tough adhesive.

Tifa placed a hand on her friend's forearm and walked her over to the black leather couch where Rude had bled on three days ago and they had made love on more than a few occasions. It took a push with the base of her hand, but Dee did plop down in a heap of sniffling. Tifa folded herself next to her and stroked her hair.

"I-I'm late."

"What?" Tifa glanced at Rude's watch sitting on her arm.

"Two weeks." Dee rubbed her eyes. The mascara bled on to her cheeks. "I came home to tell mom. But I just can't face her."

"Did you take a test?"

"Not yet. But I just know it, Tifa. I just _know_."

"This isn't something you know." Tifa half-scolded. Her hand stopped stroking her friend's velvet hair. "You need to take a test. Are you on birth control?"

"N-no."

"Well, then. Sometimes our bodies fluctuate. You live with tons of girls." Tifa kept rambling, but nothing came through to the petite blonde crying on Rude's couch.

"I can't be pregnant." She whispered after minutes of suppressed sobs. Her chest heaved with a force that made Tifa almost worried for Dee's ribs. "I just can't. I haven't even graduated yet."

"Saying you can't be won't make it go away." Tifa tried again. She closed her hand around Dee's wrist and nudged the girl until her brown eyes met Tifa's crimson ones. "You need to take a test. What if you're not pregnant? You'd have wasted mascara over nothing."

"I can't just go buy one!" The blonde wailed. "It makes things too real." She heard Tifa's frustrated exhale before adding. "I don't have any cash and my parents are able to trace things through my card."

"Well, they're going to be in a huge shock nine months down the road forty pounds heavier and a baby on the way."

Dee tried to muster a glare at her friend, but her shoulders only turned inward.

"I'm sorry." She placed her face in her hands before breathing out. "I'm j-" Tifa cut her off with a hand. The raven haired woman pushed off the couch and motioned for her blonde friend to follow her. Dee followed her with a gait similar to a new born kitten. Her motions hindered by sobs.

The white bed she and Rude shared looked neat with the sharp corners and aligned throw pillows. The urge to crawl under the fresh sheets and close her eyes didn't pass Tifa – it never did. That bed was a trap of Rude's overzealous body heat. The only comfort tonight was that she could enjoy the coolness of the sheets, but beside a sniffling 21-year-old with a pregnancy scare. There were better ways to spend this night.

Tifa motioned Dee to follow her into the stately master bathroom with the jet tub. She pointed the "Hot" and "Cold" knobs and the button that turned the bath into a spa. Dee found the bottle of lavender bubble bath without missing a beat.

"Obviously, my avocado face masks are available for use. Stay away from Rude's stuff, though. He gets weird about hygiene."

Dee nodded and glanced at the water pouring in the tub. Her question hung in the air long before she asked it.

"You need to relax. It's good for you and the maybe baby." This triggered the girl to turn around, her eyes wide.

"Y-you don't think-"

"It doesn't matter what I think. You need a test." Tifa didn't add the last part of her thought, but Dee could guess.

"Oh, Tifa. You don't have to get it. I can go get some cash."

"I need to run that way anyway."

"At 2 in the morning?"

"I have company and no instant mac and cheese!" This elicited a giggle from Dee's quivering lips.

"Or wine." The blonde shed her wrap sweater, revealing a crisp white tank top. The peak of her breasts, which weren't significant in size, swelled out the holes of her shirt. Tifa sucked in a breath as quiet as she could.

"If it's negative then we'll grab a bottle in the morning."

The pink around Dee's brown eyes began to subside. Tifa shut the door behind the sound of bath water splashing. She pulled a black hooded sweatshirt over her own white razorback and slipped into a pair of brown boots near the door. She trotted down the stairs and pushed out the building's door. The chilly air stung at the thin material of her leggings. She thought about crawling into her truck and sitting until the heat roared away, but there wasn't time for that.

She started down the street to the nearest convenience store. The home tests were next to the condoms and three aisles away from the frozen entrees. Tifa grabbed a box of all three and jogged to the cash register. The attendant was a smooth faced boy probably younger than 18.

"I know it's a confusing mix." She tried between nervous giggles.

"Whatever. Your total is 45 gil."

Tifa's hands hesitated on the purse of her wallet. 45 gil? That's highway robbery. She also didn't have that kind of money in tips – she deposited her gil every two days in her own account. She glanced at the row of cards in her wallet. She pulled out her own silver ATM and handed it to the boy.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." He handed the card back to her and explained that the company her card came from wasn't accepted at this establishment.

"Of course." She hissed. She handed him the matte, black card with Rude's name printed on it with reluctance. He placed her items in a cheap, plastic bag and she walked out into the bitter cold, reminding herself that this was an emergency.


	22. Follow Me Down

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Follow Me Down**

* * *

The blonde female in apartment 50 sat in the guest bathroom. Her puffy eyes didn't want to look at the pink "+" displayed across the screen of her home test. Her voice was too broken to call out her friend, she only sobbed – first into her hands and then into the dark hair belonging to the arms that wrapped around her.

"I have to get rid of it." Dee breathed. "I can't – I just can't." Tifa stroked her friend's hair and rocked her. Dee's small body crumpled further into Tifa's chest. Blonde hair caught in between the spaces of Tifa's fingers as she stroked her head.

A year ago, Tifa had been in this situation. She had placed the test face down on the railway of her hotel balconette while she waited. She secretly hoped that the test would fly away with the ocean wind. Three minutes aged her by five years. The positive sign knocked her down to her knees, too. Dee's circumstances were different – Tifa didn't have a mother to run to nor a boyfriend to tell. She had isolated herself from everything and everyone who knew her. It was a decision she regretted at the sign of two little pink lines. An impulse that led to more than hay burn. She had to face the reality that her baby was coming into the world with nothing else than a mother who was chosen as a second place trophy.

Dee spoke in odd intervals about clinics in the area she knew of through inquiry. Those who charged for abortions and those who didn't depending on how far along her baby developed. She spoke about adoption clinics – but that was a fate worse than death nowadays. Tifa listened to her list and ratings of the places close by and took note of the hesitation in her breaths as she spoke. Finally, after a few pregnant pauses, Tifa spoke.

"Is this something you really want to do, Dee?"

"What else is there to do? Keep it? Raise it? Be a single mom, or worse, marry the guy and ruin any chances of his success?"

"Are you close with him?"

"I mean," she wiped her eyes, "yeah, we've been dating for, like, four months."

"Does he know?"

"Oh, no." Her voice strengthened. "I couldn't bring myself. He thinks I'm here for your birthday." Tifa ignored the lie.

"You have to tell him."

"Why?"

"Are you sure he's the father. One hundred percent?"

"I'd bet my life on it."

"Then he needs to know."

Dee's tears came back full force and she collapsed back into Tifa's breast. The brunette looped her arms around the petite frame and thought how hard labor would be on this 5'0" body. Her eyes focused on the grout on the tile. Her hands wrung themselves as she jumped on another train of thought.

"I just want to talk to my mom." Dee said after moments of sobs. Her voice was hoarse. "She can fix this." Tifa gave a weak smile. The mother-to-be reached for the sink counter and lifted herself off the floor. She washed her face in the sink and looked at the time.

"If I take a shower now I can be ready before she leaves for work." Tifa nodded at her and Dee disappeared into the black air of the apartment.

Jealousy ached in Tifa's heart, but she shook it away. No matter how much she remembered, she couldn't bring herself to say anything to the sniffling down the corridor. She couldn't judge Dee's thought process because she had the same ideas. They were just as erratic, just as rash. She was bargaining for a way out. She was too young for this. She wanted her mother, too.

The only difference between Dee and Tifa was Dee had a mother, a boyfriend, and a life to protect her. Tifa chose and was thrusted to isolation. The brunette felt that weird, moralistic duty come alive in her and she buried her memories away in tissue paper. Dee wasn't about to make her mistakes, not if Tifa could help it.

Her stomach lurched as she thought and a wave of nausea overtook Tifa's body. She steadied herself on the toilet seat and began to breathe heavily. The smell of the bleach used to clean the bowl overtook her nose. She pushed back to rest against the cabinet, breathing through her mouth. The feeling subsided as soon as it began and exhaustion replaced the thudding heart. Her hands fell on her abdomen, feeling for any sign of something new and growing inside her. She reached for the opened box on the counter and looked inside. Disappointment flooded her bloodstream when she saw that both tests were used.

"I'll buy a new one today." She whispered to her stomach. "Somewhere that takes my own credit cards."

Minutes later, Dee had herself dressed in a pink sweater and black pants in thirt. Her hair looked like whipped gold after a good brushing and her cheeks started to gain some of their normal definition. She stood over the doorway to the small bathroom and shrugged her shoulders.

"Let's go get this over with."

* * *

The cot dug into the weaker parts of Cloud's back, making him hobble around in the morning until the steam of a shower loosened the tired muscles. Someone had once told him that the Buster Sword could do a number for earlier arthritis if one didn't stretch properly and distribute the weight as needed. Cloud didn't believe him – whether it was out of the sheer stupidity of being 16 or that he would never touch the said weapon, he didn't know – all he knew now was pain.

Well, that was all he ever knew. Most of it self-inflicted by his own inability to rise up to the occasion. However, these thoughts weren't important now. He shook them away with the water droplets clinging to his hair and dressed quickly. The showers in the clinics were communal and he learned the schedule pretty fast to avoid unwanted stares. His scars held a lot of stories he wasn't ready to tell.

He walked back to his spot in the gm feeling looser in the lower back. His dark pants and dark shirt seemed appropriate for the gloomy, gray weather drifting through Kalm's atmosphere. The chill seeping in through the door ways and cracks in the windows make his skin rise. Dr. Tobey had given him some clothes, but they were all too big and the cheap detergent the clinic used to wash them made his skin rash. The wind started to bore through the windows, sending in colder air by a few tens of degrees. He sighed, looking at the jacket on the floor. Shrugging it on, he could feel the skin on his arms start to burn.

He looked at the clock sitting in the middle of the gym. He had thirty minutes into his usual appointment with Tobey. The crazy old lady had talked not only talked him into staying at the clinic's hostel, but also to see her daily for "talking sessions," where she gave him pink colored tea and rambled on about the state of things in the medical world. Cloud found himself talking a lot during these sessions, but he couldn't tell if she was satisfied with where the conversations headed. Sometimes he'd talk about the weather and compare it to that of North Corel or Costa del Sol, other times it was questions about her life. She would sit there and listen, never take notes, and look at him with those bug-like eyes. He thought it unnerved him, but it actually left him wanting to sleep. He thought it was the tea, but he was even more tired the one time he declined any refreshment.

"Better get this over with." Cloud stood up and stretched once again. He started through the rows of cots, ignoring the sick people asking for help beside his body. Tobey's office wasn't far from his resting place. The door was open, but he still knocked. The woman was thumbing through a folder, her eyes looked bigger in the reading glasses.

"Is that Skye's file?" He asked when she motioned for him to enter.

"What's it to you?" She didn't look up at him when he spoke. She only straightened those tantalizing papers and lined them up to the spine of the folder.

"You know what it is to me." He watched her shut the file.

"I can tell with full disclosure that it's yours."

"What's mine?"

"The file." She gave him a look. "You need to learn not to be so overeager. You're like a puppy. I want to pop you over the nose with a newspaper any time you jump like that."

Cloud exhaled. "I have never been called puppy-like before."

"But that tone of voice-"

"I'm not in the mood for pop science today, Doc."

She looked down her glasses to study him. He shifted in his seat.

"No tea?" He asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Not today."

"Oh." She straightened a few more things on her desk before speaking again.

"Anyway. I figured we'd take a field trip today. I love this weather and this office is getting too stuffy." She pushed off her leather chair and grabbed a pair of keys. "Come, come." She snapped her fingers at Cloud who was still lounging on his chair.

"You're not even concerned that I'm thirty minutes early? You didn't have anything to do today?"

"I did, and then my client came in a half-hour before his appointment. Call it premonition, but I knew we needed to get out of the office today." She led him to the entrance of the clinic and signed herself and Cloud out. The woman front desk gave him a look that suggested sympathy. Apparently, Cloud wasn't the only one who thought she was crazy.

Tobey ignored the exchange and walked into the cold in nothing but her fuchsia sweater dress and brown boots. Cloud hugged the jacket closer to his body and trailed the woman to the green sedan. The car was still warm.

"You just got here."

"You're the only thing on my schedule." Tobey spoke without paying attention to her car guest. She only turned up the radio to a song with a heavy saxophone and a tenor voice. She pulled onto the freeway and drove in the far left lane.

"Where are we going anyway?" Cloud asked after fifteen minutes of 90 miles per hour. She turned her turn signal on and pulled off the freeway before she spoke. The road was familiar to Cloud.

"Well, I did something a little illegal." She started. "Ok. Not _super_ illegal. Unethical… no… Unconventional, yeah. Unconventional won't get my license revoked." She pulled the car into a lot and shifted the gear to park.

Cloud felt his heart stop. The bungalow stood empty. It hadn't been winterized. Dr. Tobey touched his shoulder and motioned for him to get out of the car.

"I trust you still have the key." She motioned to the bulge in his hip. He pulled out the keys to the Fenrir and then thumbed the small, bronze key that led into his old nest.

"How'd you figure this out?" He asked as he worked the lock.

"Property records are public. Plus, I've seen that key and though 'hm… it's not like a wanderer to _have_ property."

"I was living with a girl." He explained, feeling the block in his esophagus separate from the cold air. "I told her we were renting it, but I had a lot more gil than she did so I put the down payment on it when she was gone one day. She paid me rent, but I put it in the bank to fix this place up."

"Some girl."

"Yeah. It was going to be her birthday present."

"Yeah, I thought so." The lock finally gave. "I was hoping some bank would buy it or someone else would take interest in it. It's been sitting empty for a year."

"You never thought to put it on the market."

Cloud didn't answer, he only pushed the door open and let the old woman walk through it first. He didn't clean up. Only left it an array of old papers, a tearing couch, and food was still in the sink. Dr. Tobey didn't focus on any of that, instead she pushed into the bedroom, with the made back and the pink bow tied across Cloud's old side.

"So you just abandoned it?"

"There wasn't much reason to stay. She left for good this time last year."

"Any reason why?"

"She didn't give one."

Tobey only nodded. She motioned under the bed, asking for permission. Cloud nodded and got on his knees and pulled out the little brown box he was sure she saw. He held it out for Tobey, she didn't take it. She only took off the top and began to rummage through it. It was nothing more than old receipts displaying both Cloud and Tifa's names.

"She's big on keeping all her things in order."

"I'll say."

Tobey placed the lid back on the box and walked back to the main portion of the house. Cloud set the box on the bed and followed her. He noticed his flowers he grew lying in shriveled dust. Tifa took all her things.

Tobey stopped at the one placed he hoped she wouldn't. The framed 6x8 photo of happier times. She picked up the frame and began to work the photo out of it. Cloud didn't stop her. He stood over her shoulder and looked on it.

"She's pretty." The gray hair woman studied Aerith's profile through her reading glasses. Indeed, she was. It was Cloud's favorite photo of her. He'd taken it from Elmyra's shortly after they returned to Midgar – before the meteor fell. Her adopted mother explained that the photo happened shortly before Zack Fair died.

"Was this her? The one who all this was for?" Tobey asked, her voice suggested something he couldn't place.

Cloud waited a moment to answer. "N- I don't know." He collapsed on the old couch. A pile of dust rose up and invaded his airway. Tobey perched on the arm rest.

"One year ago, I walked in to your offices. You said it was a processing thing. My brain can't sort everything out." He sighed, thumbing through the pockets of his pants. His hands then caught his head, the fingers massaged his scalp. "But now, I don't know if I believe that." He launched into his soliloquy of the pretty brunette in the photo, her life, her boyfriend and his tragic death. Nibelheim. He stopped short of Tifa.

"His memories became mine," he explained after describing the experiments. Of course, he couldn't remember them – only what was in his file and what Tifa had described after she learned of them. "That's why I have such a hard time believing it's a processing problem. It's a DNA problem." He breathed out after he spoke.

"So, Zack's feelings for Aerith transferred to you?"

"I think so, and then I don't. I cared for her, I did – I do. I think about her all the time. So much that I think it's survivor's guilt." Tobey nodded as he relayed his self-diagnosis. "Then there's this girl." He motioned to the house.

"I think your life is more complicated than two girls." Toby said.

"I would hope so." He laughed, "but I'm admitting it, right?"

"It's a step." Tobey said, patting his arm. She pushed off the couch and motioned for him to follow her. She gave him a moment to lock up the house and then they started back to the clinic. Tobey included a detour for fast food breakfast.

An hour later, when they got back to the clinic. The receptionist pulled the doctor aside to speak in hurried whispers. Tobey motioned for Cloud to go on. He stepped through the hallway and passed by Tobey's office.

The flurry of black hair attacked his face first. His hands cupped the shoulders of the person who ran into him. He straightened his arms to hold the body at a distance.

"Tifa."

"Oh my God, can you not be more intrusive?"

Cloud didn't say anything.

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

"Dr. Tobey!" Tifa huffed. She looked back into the office and clenched her teeth. "I need her." She spoke in a whisper.  
On cue, the older doctor strolled through the hallway. Cloud saw her eyes light up when she saw the raven-haired woman. Cloud realized his fingers were still digging into Tifa's skin. He removed them just as the gray haired woman enveloped the shorter girl into a hug.

"It's so good to see you!" Her voice was genuine. "I see you've met Cloud."

"Yeah," Tifa spoke through her teeth still. "Look, Dr. Tobey, I have a friend who needs you."

"Where is she?"

"Your office." The doctor patted her shoulder and instructed to Tifa to wait outside. Cloud started to leave, but his feet refused to move. Tifa looked tired in a pair of blue jeans and a white sweatshirt. She shifted on her feet. Her gaze never fully meeting Cloud's. His memories sorted through the morning, the house, those pictures. They focused, however, on that little grave in the Nibelheim cemetery.

His body started before his brain could control him. He closed the space between them and lifted her chin with his finger. Her eyes turned from confused to defiant. Her body straightened into the wall.

"Tifa."

"What?"

"Who is Skye?"

* * *

The blood in Tifa's stomach dropped into her legs. Her knees buckled and she fell into the weight of Cloud's body. He caught her, his hands feeling like electricity. He repeated the question a second time. His eyes were menacing.

"Y-you asked around?"

"I found the grave, Tifa. You never thought I might go back?"

"I figured you were too busy putting it in every hole to ever care." She gritted her teeth, bits of spit flew on Cloud's face as she spoke.

"If I can take all that back, I would." He released her from his grip. His arms crossed as she fell back on the wall. "Starting with you."

Dr. Tobey's office door opened and Dee walked out like a child who had been caught stealing candy. The elderly woman followed suit, her hand leading her down a different part of the clinic.

"I'm not going to see her," She explained, speaking directly to Tifa. "I've got my hands full today, but my friend, Dr. Yolanda, is lovely and probably better at babies than I am." Dee turned to whisper to her, the doctor answered her with a shaking head and a warm smile. Finally, the little blonde girl shuffled down the hallway.

"She looks like she's 16." Cloud commented into the air. Neither Doctor Tobey nor Tifa answered him. When the blonde turned the corner, the white-haired woman turned to the two enemies in the hallway. Her hands rested on her hips.

"I guess we should continue this conversation in here." Her words were solemn. She glanced at Tifa and then at Cloud before turning on her heel back into her office.


	23. Let Me Down Easy

_A/N: Once again, I'd like to thank everyone for their feedback, favorites, and follows. It's been a journey with these two! Not that this story is over just yet, but I did want to take this moment to dedicate a word of thanks for everyone who has stuck in this far._

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Three: Let Me Down Easy**

* * *

"Before I begin," Tobey said after the two had taken their seats. "I have to remind the both of you that lying of legal documents is a serious offense." Out of the corner of his eye, Cloud saw Tifa fidget her hands in her lap.

"What about Dee?" It was the first question Tifa asked since folding herself into the small leather chair. She sat erect, her spine threatened to snap at any moment. Her hair had grown longer and there was a suppleness to her Cloud hadn't seen on her since she was a child who enjoyed one too many cookies. Maybe the Turk was taking care of her.

"Your friend has some tough decisions to make. But I don't want to talk about her until she's ready." The woman's warm smile had disappeared into a straight line across her face, it emphasized her wrinkles. "Instead, I want to discuss the validity of this file." The gray eyes focused on Tifa; the folder slide across the desk like silk. Tifa didn't pick it up, though. Her arms crossed over her chest and shook her head with defiance.

"What I signed stands." It was statement that could rival law. "I understand what this means, but I also want to point out that I refused services offered to single mothers. Any expense I incurred while pregnant and after her death were out of pocket."

"How did you get the money to pay for a funeral?" It was Cloud's voice, uncharacteristically booming that answered her. "I'm assuming you didn't work."

" _Some_ of us have other skills than being good bedfellows." Tifa knew her file showed she had dipped into the Lockhart inheritance to pay for it all. She had the rest stashed away for emergencies like having to move to a fishing village in Wutai and start all over again. Her stomach lurched when she realized that running was her first choice again. Her shoulders threatened to cave in, but she steadied her jaw and kept her eyes beyond Doctor Tobey and on the window behind her.

"Can I take a paternity test?"

"Not without mother's consent." Doctor Tobey interjected.

Tifa's head shook from the left to the right. "I don't want him anywhere near my baby or her records."

"Why?" Cloud's right arm flew out and touched the desk. He stared at Tifa's proud and defiant profile and resisted the urge to grab her chin and make her face him. "We both know she's mine."

"No we don't." Her voice raised an octave and she scooted away from him. "I had the baby in July, Cloud. I could've been knocked up in October and we _definitely_ weren't that close then."

"Somehow, I doubt you would have hidden in the hull of a ship if you had morning sickness." Tifa turned her head to glare at him. He met her gaze with equal intensity.

"I'm surprised you could even align the dates." Tifa snapped. "Why are you so concerned with _my_ baby? I'm sure you've knocked up at least a few dozen girls in the time I was carrying ou-" she coughed, "her to term."  
"Well obviously you didn't do a good job." Cloud snapped back. He heard the hiss come from Doctor Tobey's lips.

"It was your radioactive sperm that killed her!" Tifa yelled before realizing what she had done. The two listeners in the room watched her eyes grow wide and her hands cover her mouth. The whites of her eyes turned to pink and the dam of water was visible from Cloud's seat in the room. Doctor Tobey's eyebrow raised and then furrowed. She opened the file and thumbed through it before talking. Tifa's eyes fixated on Tobey's hands and she prayed for a switch in conversation. Cloud shifted in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped the other. He, too, looked up at the doctor.

"Is that true?"

"I can't disclose anything without the mother's permission." The two pairs of eyes in the room fixated on Tifa.

"No. Go ahead. Tell him." She threw her hands down.

"Tifa, you realize doing this will admit that he is the father." Dr. Tobey's hand hovered over her reading glasses as she spoke.

"We all know it's true." Tifa admitted, crossing her arms and looking away from the scene. "It doesn't excuse the fact that _he_ killed her. I could sue for reckless abandonment."

"Fuck that." He snorted. "I _could_ sue for second-degree murder."

"No you can't." Dr. Tobey held up her hand. "Reckless abandonment would require that you were honest with us when you first came in her. You released all rights to hold any potential father accountable the second you signed Form B." Her eyes turned toward Cloud. "And you, don't encourage her."

Tifa huffed.

"When did you turn into such a brat?" Cloud asked the air.

"Shut up!" Her fist balled and threw themselves on the arms of the chair. Her breath cut through the air, blowing out a cucumber scented candle next to her arm.

"That's enough." Dr. Tobey spoke. "Do you want to know the cause of death or not?"

The two nodded. The older woman slipped her gold reading glasses on and held a form up. She read the words before holding the form so the two can read it.

"She died of – wait." She held her glasses to her lips before looking at the couple. "Wait, let's play a game: What did you think your baby died of? Tifa, you're up!"

"Mako sperm screwing up her chromosomes."

"Cloud?"

"Stress from the mother." Cloud said. His elbows dropped and he looked away: "and me not being there."

She placed her glasses back on her face before making a sound with her mouth that sounded similar to a buzzer on a game show.

"You would both be wrong." Dr. Tobey held the paper like a father would a newspaper after a long day at the office. "Tifa went into labor on her 29th week and gave birth to a baby whose birth weight 4 pounds and 3 ounces. Critically low by any standard, especially going into the seventh month. The baby did have a good chance of survival, but, once we put her in ICU did she begin to falter in health. Her ultimate cause of death – as printed on this death certificate – is natural causes. The death report states that one valve in her heart was significantly smaller than the other. We couldn't operate given her size."

She looked at Tifa " _You_ remember this conversation." She turned back to the document. Before wrapping up the report, which was only who signed the report and that the mother was notified.

"But what about the Mako?"

"In very rare circumstances, there have been cases where chromosome damage has been amplified by a presence of Mako. But that's something we would've detected by the beginning of your second trimester. You went into early labor. Babies die sometimes. Not by stress from the mother or freak experiments on the father – sometimes they die. Judging by this situation, I think Skye picked the better alternative."

"I don't understand why." Tifa wrung her hands in her lap.

"That's the problem with us humans," Tobey said as she closed the file and placed it on a shelf. "We want to assign meaning to everything."

Cloud felt something next to his sternum snap. He looked over to the scowl on Tifa's face. Her full lips pressed together and the breath seethed from her nose. She reminded him of a wolf ready to attack at any moment.

He didn't need this now. He lifted up from the chair and strode out of the room.

* * *

Tifa sat with her legs folded in the waiting room. Dee still hadn't come out of her own appointment. She felt tired and sleeping in the chair seemed more and more appeasing as the minutes ticked.

Vanessa and Tifa had worked out a plan while Dee packed a weekend bag. They'd stay in Kalm for a week for Dee to figure out what she wanted to do. The little blonde still hadn't decided to tell her boyfriend or not; however, the way the laws worked in Kalm meant she could have the procedure today and it'd never go on her record. Tifa hoped that wouldn't happen, but she didn't tell Dee that. The drive had been long and the bumps in the road rattled Tifa's already sensitive stomach. She hadn't even thought of where they were going to stay.

She felt the pressure add to the bench and the familiar scent of jasmine and spice filled her nose. She closed her eyes, feeling the headache approach.

Doctor Tobey didn't use words, but did pass her a cup of hot chocolate. Tifa lapped it up greedily.

"Whoa, there."

"It's the first thing I've consumed all day." She sighed. "We woke up this morning with her pregnancy scare and then telling her mom. Then we decided the best thing would be to come to the doctor who delivered my baby – sorry, I guess, _his_ baby."

"So no one else knew?" Dr. Tobey patted Tifa's back.

"Not when I had her. I've told two people. Dee found out this morning on the drive here."

"That probably made her feel a little better." The older woman smiled. "Misery likes company."

"I think so."

"Does the boyfriend know?"

"Yes." Tifa looked at her doctor. "He has a name, you know."

Tobey rolled her eyes.

"I didn't know when I left." She said, her words laced with urgency. "Skye. I didn't know. I found out a month later."

"I couldn't call, either. I threw my phone in the ocean." This made Tobey's eyebrow raise.

"I knew the first day you came in to my office that you were at the end of your wits. Remember? You had all those test sitting in a zip up bag, every single one of them positive. You begged me to take a blood test in the middle of my lunch break."

"You were in the middle of a tuna salad." Tifa smiled. "You ate the whole thing while the machine took my sample."

"It had been a long day! I'm an old woman. I needed my strength."

"I was so scared." Tifa stared at her hands. "I didn't have anyone."

"I guess what I don't understand is, you knew. You know who the father is." Tobey crossed her legs. "You never thought to try to see him?"

"Cloud doesn't see me." Tifa tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "He hasn't in a long time. Whenever he does look in my direction, I know it's not me he's looking for – it's someone else. It's been that way for too long." Tifa let out a long sigh.

"Ah. The other woman?"

"I'm the other woman. The runner-up." Tifa stretched her tired shoulders. "The sad thing is: he's my first choice. I'm sure if he had his first choice, well, we wouldn't be in this predicament." Tifa's stomach began to churn.

"I'm sorry, how long is Dee going to take?" She moved her elbows down to her knees to minimize the pain.

"Last I checked she's going through with the sonogram and all the tests, so it could be up to another few hours." Dr. Tobey looked over at the crumpled stance. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I think I ate something bad."

"You just said you haven't eaten today."

Tifa hung her head. "Remember that old saying 'fool me once'?"

She heard the sigh move from Tobey's lips, it didn't sound condescending or disappointed – just concerned.

"Does the father know _this_ time?"

"We're in a more stable relationship. But, no, he doesn't know. He's been away for a few days."

"Have you taken a test?"

"I don't start for another few weeks, it wouldn't show up, right?"

"It'll show up in your blood, if you are, of course." Tobey stood up and tapped Tifa's arm. "Come on, let's go get you checked out."

Tifa lifted off the bench with shaky legs. She followed the white coat down another corridor, the same one she had walked down that year ago.

 **0_0_0_0_0**

The first test took twenty minutes plus an extra thirty to nibble on cookies and sip juice. Tifa caught her favorite doctor up with the little changes in her life.

"Well, you do look good." Dr. Tobey said when Tifa explained the comments towards her skin and hair. "But that also might be because you're less stressed and living out of that harsh air."

"I don't know about less stressed," Tifa picked with the band aid on her arm. "Rude has a dangerous job. We don't talk about it, because I don't think I can handle it."

"I remember that name." Tobey stuck a finger to her lip and tapped at the skin. "He worked in General Affiars or Administrative Research? Whatever they're calling it nowadays."

"He's a Turk."

"I prefer the nice name." Tifa rolled her eyes, there wasn't a nice way to describe his job. Dr. Tobey continued, "they make very well. More than I did -"

"You worked for Shinra?"

"Who didn't?" Tobey laughed. "Your friend in here is practically legacy. I delivered her in the hospital ward. I knew I recognized that name, but I didn't think you two were so close in age." She shrugged her tiny shoulders. "I guess I delivered so many babies that I lost the names."

Tifa smiled and stared at her hands.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Tobey asked Tifa. She was across the room washing her hands. "Your baby was the prettiest I ever delivered."

Tifa smiled. "She got it from her daddy."

"Eh. I'm a little biased, but she definitely got it from the mother." Doctor Tobey dried her hands. "Ok. So I'll see you in two days to take the next sample."

There was a small knock on the door.

"And here's the mother to be!" Dr. Tobey announced, she had gotten a call on her PHS during Tifa's blood test and came back into the room with an extra perk in her step. Dee had pushed through the door, her skin took on its normal olive tone and her eyes weren't puffy.

"Dr. Connor told you?" Dee smiled.

"Word gets around here fast." Dr. Tobey grabbed the blonde's wrists in a loving way. "I deliver the babies around here, and I remember delivering you some twenty years ago. I love generations!"

"Did you call your mom?" Tifa asked from her seat. She shoved the sleeve of her shirt down quickly.

"Yes. I also called Nate." She rubbed her stomach when she said her boyfriend's name. "He's on the way now."

"That's a long flight."

"18 hours." Dee said. "I'm four weeks along."

The women shared their congratulations and Dr. Tobey worked to clean up. Tifa pushed off the patient's chair and noticed Dee's inquisitive look.

"Just getting a checkup." She patted the new mom's back and started out the door. "Let's go eat."

"Ohmigosh. Yes! I'm starving. Eating for two, y'know." Tifa smiled and led her friend down the hallway to the exit.

Dee was putting on her layers of sweater, jacket, and a scarf when Tifa heard her name called from inside a hallway. She turned around and felt her face drop. Cloud jogged up to her.

"Diagnosis?" Cloud asked Dee first. She smiled at the stranger before explaining her pregnancy. He smiled and said something about babies being great. Tifa ignored his eyes on her own stomach when he spoke.

"Can I pull you away for a minute?" He spoke to Tifa this time. She nodded and went to the doorway.

"Tobey told you?"

"She told me you were leaving." He said, rummaging through his jacket pockets. "Where are you guys going to stay tonight?" She felt her shoulders move up at the subject change.

"I don't know; we can find a hotel."

"No." Cloud said, reaching into his pocket. "No, don't pay for a room." He pulled out a keychain and worked on it for a moment. "It's a little bit of a mess, but if you go get lunch and shop or something you girls do I can have it cleaned in the meantime." He handed her the bronze key.

"This is the key to the old bungalow?"

"I never terminated the lease." He explained. "It's a mess, but I bet that old cleaning lady is still around."

"The one who got the house done in twenty minutes?"

"Hey, I'll still take whatever she's smoking."

"Still?"

"Definitely." Cloud stood up and pulled his own phone out of his pocket.

"I see your phone is working." Tifa glowered. Cloud looked at her and then remembered those 39 calls.

"I see you can't take a hint." He pressed a button and disappeared into the hallway. Tifa felt her skin begin to crawl. All this time, and he didn't want to talk to her? She rested her head against the wall and remembered all those times, pregnant and not, when all she wanted to do was go back to the night in January in the Chocobo stable. Not because she regretted it, because she missed the tender touch and that feeling that she was the only one he wanted. She knew that would never be true, but it was nice to pretend like there was a second amongst all the chaos where he only saw her.

She sighed again, thinking of their baby. Skye left this world because those two people who were supposed to take care of her failed to even acknowledge the other.

"There you go again," she said to herself. She wanted Skye's death to mean something – there was no way she just gave up. The air didn't leave her body because her heart couldn't keep up with her blood's demands. She looked over at the corridor to watch Cloud hang off the door frame and talk into his cell phone. The same phone she had called enough times to rub the numbers off her own phone. The same phone where he chose never to call her back. She raked a hand through her hair. She knew she could call Rude and update him on everything, but Tifa couldn't bring herself to pull out her phone and dial the number.

"I'll wait for Dee." She told herself. "After she's settled, I'll call him."

She couldn't bring herself to believe her own lie.

Cloud walked up to the sitting female and slid his phone into his pocket. He wasn't grinning, but there was lightness in his step that told her he got what he wanted.

"She said it'd take two hours. She still lives across the street."

"How bad is the house."

He didn't answer. Instead, Tifa heard Dee call from the front of the clinic.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around."  
"Yeah." Tifa started away. The call of her name made her stop in her tracks.

"Tifa?" She looked at him, half of her full of hope and the other half full of agony.

"I'm sorry. I really am."

"I'm sorry, too." She turned her back to him and linked arms with Dee. Together they walked out into the cold, windy outside.


	24. Lying in the Dust

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Lying in the Dust**

* * *

The house was one bedroom and one bathroom and just above Cloud and Tifa's decided budget. She didn't want to go look, but he insisted in his own quiet way of slowing down when they passed the road to turn on. When she finally caved, he had the appointment set for 9 that morning.

Unlocking the door now with a pregnant girl hovering over the railing on the front porch, Tifa remembered why they loved that little house. It had a certain charm with the bright red door and stone floors – it reminded them both of home. The place smelled of lemons and bleach, undoubtedly some of the surfaces were still damp from a much needed scrub. Tifa paused before pushing into the house – was it good for Dee to be near all these chemicals.

"Let me in," the pregnant woman nudged Tifa with the palm of her hand. "It's freezing outside and I'm exhausted."

"You're tired?" Tifa unzipped her boots and set them next to the door. "I was the one who drove three hours straight."

"Please. This baby's already kicking." Dee unwrapped her scarf and set it on the coat hanger.

"You're barely a month. That baby isn't moving." Tifa said, remembering the chart of baby size and development she kept on her until she went into labor.

"Certainly feels like it." Dee flashed her white smile, pausing for a moment before turning it into a yawn. "Were you this tired?"

"Sometimes. I also would get this crazy energy at odd hours of the night." Tifa dropped her keys on the bowl next to the window. The familiarity of the space both unnerved and relaxed the hair on the back of her neck. She unbuttoned her own coat and deposited it on the rack next to Dee's yellow scarf.

"Yuck. I have to get eight hours of sleep or else I'm so cranky."

"You're in for a rough surprise if you think the kid is going to work on your schedule." Tifa crossed over the room and threw herself on the blue threaded couch. The cushions had the curves and dips of her body committed to memory.

"I know, but I can still dream that I'll have a calm baby who doesn't fuss, right?"

"You can dream. Be prepared for the alarm of crying at 3 in the morning, though." Dee folded herself on the off-white chair in the corner. Her boots were off and she wore socks with a spotted animal print on them. The blonde adjusted herself so her hands could cover her belly – a common thing to do for new mothers. Her neck twisted to study the small space around her, taking in the random magazines, books, and throw blankets tucked neatly in the window seat. Tifa and Cloud never decorated with pictures – there was only one that she knew of containing their small group, but it was too small for Dee's prying eyes. Plus, the brunette couldn't remember where that frame was. Not that it mattered, Aerith and Tifa stood on either side of Cloud in it, anyone who didn't know the full situation wouldn't catch on. Not that it mattered anymore.

Tifa hugged the sleeves of her shirt closer to her body and chewed on her lower lip. Not even three months ago, all she had wanted from Cloud was an apology. If she had that, then she could move on and live her life out with comfort and ease. If she had those two little words, then the love for Rude she wanted to feel would come flooding in.

 _I'm sorry_. He said it without looking away. Those sapphire eyes locked on hers as he spoke – not as a challenge to keep fighting, but a white flag raised in their battlefield. She had gotten what she wanted – she had won. The price, though? Well, it wasn't worth it.

She shifted her position and felt the PHS in her pocket dig into her hip. Her stomach churned again. Rude. She needed to call him.

"Tifa?" Dee spoke suddenly, pulling Tifa out of her mind with a jump. She glanced at the blonde without saying anything. "Who was that man in the clinic?"

"You didn't see him, Dee."

"You two have a history, don't you?" Tifa glanced away. "Is he Cl-"

"Yes." The word stung on the back of her throat. She pushed off the couch. "He is. But you didn't see him, ok? I can't pull you into this mess." She motioned to Dee's stomach. The blonde pushed off her chair and yawned. Tifa pointed to the back of the house, where the bed was.

"I can take the couch." Dee stretched, her hands resting on her lower back.

"No!" Tifa fussed, grabbing her friend's arm and leading her to the room. It was immaculately cleaned and the blue comforter was tucked in to precision. That pink ribbon was tied over Cloud's side of the bed. He hadn't removed.

The ticking clock next to Tifa's old side reminded her heart to start.

"Please don't tell me you had an obscene amount of sex in this bed." Dee reached under her shirt to unlatch her bra and unbuttoned her jeans. Tifa turned away until the blonde was nestled under the blanket, her eyelids beginning to falter as soon as her head touched the pillow.

"No." Tifa shook her head.

"Thank you for lying to me." Dee turned on her side and curled into herself further. Her breathing deepened long before Tifa replied to her.

"I wish I were." Dee nestled further into Tifa's old side of the bed, her breaths growing heavier by the second. Tifa took the moment to cross to the other side of the bed and untie the fading, pink ribbon. She tucked it into her pocket, her fingers brushing against the plastic of her phone. She glanced at the clock on the phone. Wutai was 8 hours behind them, but who knew what he actually woke up.

She shut the bedroom door behind her while her thumb scrolled through the small list of contacts. The muscles of her hand hesitated once again. With an exhale, she dialed. Two rings in and she felt the blood rush to her gut. She nestled back on the couch before the fourth ring. He picked up on the fifth.

"Did I wake you up?" It was her knee-jerk reaction to his thick voice. She glanced back at the watch on her wrist and began to hate herself for doing her math wrong.

"I should've been up two hours ago, but the alarm must be faulty." She imagined him stretching his arms and then resting his elbows on his knees, his own little phone cradled against his ear. "Everything ok?"

"Sort of. I'm kind of in Kalm right now."

"Kind of?"

"Well, I _am_ in Kalm." She launched into her story about Dee. Not stopping short of Vanessa's frustration with her young daughter and Tifa's offer to take her to the best obstetrician on this continent.

"Was she yours?" Rude interrupted her story. Tifa confirmed and then continued.

"So you're there until?"

"Until she figures out what she wants to do …" the pause made her heart stutter, the blood pooled into her hips. "And after I get my own tests done."

"You're sick?"

Tifa sighed, hoping Rude would catch the hint. "If I am, it'll take nine months to cure."

The other end of the line was silent other than the sound of a sliding door opening and shutting.

"Rude, nothing's confirmed yet. I've just been feeling a little weird, and we can never be too careful."

Silence.

"It's probably nothing! Dee's situation and seeing Cloud just remind-"

"Cloud's there, too?"

"He's staying at the clinic where Dee got checked out."

"And you were tested there?"

"They aren't done yet," Tifa's free hand began pulling at her hair. "I have another 48 hours."

"And then?"

"Well, then, I think we have more to talk about." She heard his breath on the other end. "I know this isn't the right time to tell you-"

"It is the right time, but not in the classical way."

"I'm sorry."

"If you're not, then we'll be safer next time." The silence deafened Tifa.

"And if I am?"

"We'll explore our options." She heard voices in the background. "I have to go."

"Ok."

There was no "I love you" or "stay safe" to end the call. She only heard the click to disconnect on his end. The knot in her stomach grew, threatening to pop her lungs at any moment. She realized she was holding her breath the entire time.

* * *

"I really wish you would take the truck to pick him up." Tifa said from her spot in the living room. It was the next afternoon. Dee ran her flat iron through a piece of unruly hair. She looked rested and happy – her skin glowing from expectancy and her new foundation and brown eyelashes thickened by mascara. She straightened the orange scarf over her neck and cuffed her gray jeans. They had spent the morning prolonging the inevitable. The call came a quarter to noon that Nate was on his last leg of his journey – a three-hour plane ride from Costa del Sol to Kalm.

"No! It's only two miles away, I can cab it."

"I don't think your mother would approve of her pregnant daughter taking a cab."

"In Edge, maybe. But this is Kalm! Nothing bad happens here."

"Except for those bombings."

Dee waved her hand. "Anyway, my dad's flying in tonight to see how we came this work financially. So we're staying in a hotel room."

"Meaning?" Tifa asked.

"Well, with the baby due in late September, it makes school a little hard. Nate's finished with most of his own medical training, so he could apprentice under Daddy and not lose any more time." Dee fluffed her hair with the ends of her fingers. "I can stay home – bake cookies and what not. No, not really." She laughed when she saw Tifa's face. The laughter doubled when Tifa's face loosened into a smile.

"No shot-gun weddings, ok?"

"Never!" Dee ran some clear gel over her eyebrows. "I've been dreaming about my wedding since I was three. I'll walk down the aisle at nine months if I have to, anything for those doves." She stood up, taking a stretch in her back before unfolding her legs.

"How do I look?"

"Expecting."

"Seriously!"

"Dee, you know you're a pretty girl." Dee rolled her eyes before slipping on her yellow coat and black gloves. She grabbed her tote bag just before the honking alerted her.

"That's my ride." She whispered. Her hand moved from over her belly into the air. "Gimme a hug!" Tifa wrapped her arms around her little friend.

"Thank you for everything." Dee whispered into her squeeze. "Seriously. Everything."

"Anytime."

When Dee left in a cloud of vanilla body mist and hairspray, Tifa felt the hold in her heart. She considered calling Rude again, but voted against it. Instead, she heated up the left over noodles from last night and turned on the television. Cloud forgot to shut off the cable plan, too. Not that Tifa complained as she snuggled into a blanket and watched reruns of some of childhood shows she loved.

She never would've guessed that he kept this old place. When she returned to Kalm, she had driven by it – the darkened windows suggested abandonment. She opted to stay at the clinic on the old cots with springs in uncomfortable places. When the cot broke, she opted to rent an apartment in Kalm. Something small, a studio with a cute kitchen.

Her contractions started when she was watching television. She didn't believe it, but the pain couldn't be ignored. She drove herself to the hospital.

Dee wouldn't have that problem – Vanessa will probably comfort her with stories about her own birth and her father will have gotten Nate a good job. Dr. Tobey would be there with her own quirks and catch phrases. She'd want for naught.

That's the way it should be. Tifa shifted in her seat. If hers had been alive, she knew her parents would've insisted that she came home, work as an instructor, and her mom would help raise the baby. If Cloud were around, he'd have followed her.

"Maybe I should've gotten knocked up earlier by him." She laughed to herself. "Then I'd have him without the baggage." She flipped off the television and let out an unexpected yawn. She hadn't slept well the night before – whether it was Rude, her constantly throbbing in stomach, or Dee's tossing and turning, she didn't know. She nestled further into the green blanket thrown over the couch. The warmth enclosed her in a hug she hadn't felt in a while. Sleep came like an old friend.

Her dreams wove in and out – but they mostly focused on the image of a six-month old baby with chubby cheeks trying to stand up. Tifa wasn't alone, a blonde man stood beside her and coaxed the little one to try her best. The blue-eyed baby with the thick, black curls wobbled and fell, eliciting a tiny cry.

The knock on the front door pulled her from her sleep. She stretched and assumed Dee had forgotten something. She straightened out her legs and let the blanket fall to the floor. Her lower abdomen seethed in pain and caused her to lurch forward. She placed a hand into the knotting muscles and pushed. She took an exhale as the muscles contracted against the digits digging into them.

The knock persisted.

Tifa pushed off the couch with her free hand and shuffled to the door. She pulled her tank top over her stomach before answering the caller.

The sight of him made her lean against the doorway. Her right hand massaged into the pain spreading through her stomach.

"Can I come in?" Cloud's voice rattled her bones. He looked good in his tight black shirt. She shuffled to the side and cursed herself for still lounging around in sleepwear.

"It's your lease, not mine."

"Right." He pushed in and looked around. "She did a good job," he whistled.

"Yeah, she always did." Tifa tried to push off and stand, but the dizziness hit her. She rested her knee against an end table.

"You ok?" Cloud motioned to her hobbling to the kitchen. Tifa turned around and dropped her left leg. The pain reverberated through her core like a music hall.

"Ate something bad." She answered. Her attention devoted itself to putting one foot in front of the other until she reached the kitchen. Cloud followed behind her, cutting her line to the refrigerator to grab a pink colored bottle.

"Strawberry soda in January?" Tifa hobbled over to the coffee pot she had filled thirty minutes ago.

"The sugar keeps me pleasant." He chugged the bottle. The glass knocked against the bottom of the trash can when he discarded it, setting Tifa's nerves on edge. She walked out of the kitchen and sat on the couch, pulling the blanket over her torso. Cloud, annoyingly, followed her and sat next to her feet. He looked at the black screen in front of them.

"Did I keep that cable plan?"  
"And the internet."

"Shit. That explains a lot." He chuckled. Tifa didn't inquire further. She worked her fingers through the fabric of the blanket, fully aware that his eyes were on her movements. In a fit awkwardness, Tifa checked the clock on the table.

"Oh my," Tifa laughed to herself. "I just woke up from a nap." She explained to her guest. "I didn't realize it was that late."

"Good thing I didn't come by earlier, then." Cloud noted. "I came by forty minutes ago,"

"Did you knock?"

"Couldn't bring myself to." He watched her rub her stomach again. "Seriously, are you ok?"

"I'll find out tomorrow." She whispered. The sun had just started to set outside, high lighting the sky with orange rays and filling the room with a haze of sluggishness. She stretched again and stood up, the pain finally subsided. The sigh of relief didn't escape Cloud.

"You know you manifest your stress physically, right?"

"Excuse me?" Tifa asked mid-stretch.

"Do you remember when your mom died? You lost 6 inches of hair because it started falling out of your scalp and broke erratically. You went to the girl's house for a sleepover – was her name Byron? Whatever. She brushed your hair and half of it broke into the brush."

Tifa stared at him, mouth agape.

"Your dad had to take you to even it out. You were so mad. You said your hair was the closest thing you had to your mom."

"Well, I do look like my dad." Tifa laughed and ran a hand through her hair, which was now hanging low on her collar bone. "How'd you remember that?"

"I just do."

Tifa looked at him for a moment, remembering that little boy who would throw rocks at her window. Cloud looked at her, too.

"Tifa, do you want to go somewhere?"

She didn't answer, but walked into the bedroom and changed. They opted for her truck, since it was so cold. Cloud gave the directions – which, after an hour of driving, took them to an open field. The stars were starting to come out and the moon, full and proud, shone brightly.

"Is this where you kill me?" Tifa asked half-kidding. Cloud shook his head and jumped out the truck. He grabbed something nestled between his headrest and the window. Tifa saw it was the purple Canyon blanket she had bought a year and half ago when they were roughing it in the desert continent. He shook out dust in the blanket and spoke.

"Nah. Too obvious."

"How'd you know that was there?" He spread the blanket across the bed of Tifa's truck. He climbed up first and laid on the left side. Tifa followed suit on the right.

"I'm really observant, Tifa." He gave her that look that said she should know that. He laid himself down on the rough cotton, support his head with the palm of his left head. Tifa laid on her side and looked up at the emerging light show.

"The stars here aren't nearly as pretty as those at home."

"But they'll have to do…"

"Story of our lives, right?"

Tifa didn't laugh. Cloud's ankle knocked hers and he looked at her. His blue eyes were just as vibrant under the moonlight, the light softened the lines around his face. He looked 16 again, before he shipped off to train for SOLDIER.

Tifa wondered how she looked in this light, probably tired and haggard. She carried the lines and memories someone her age shouldn't. Her stomach churned and twisted into a tight ring.

"I think I'm pregnant." The words came out suddenly and with energy. Cloud didn't flinch.

"Is it mine again?"

Tifa snorted. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I couldn't remember if we used anything," Cloud spoke. "But, obviously it didn't work."

"We didn't." Tifa corrected. "I don't think either of us had anything, and we did think we were going to die the next day."

"Right." His jaw stiffened. Tifa hungered to see what was going on in that mind.

"Would you really take it back?"

"Hm?"

"Yesterday," Tifa's fingers rubbed along the stitching of the blanket. "You said you'd take it all back. Would you really?"

"I was mad yesterday. I learned all this two weeks ago and you weren't budging to give me information."

"I was mad, too."

"But, no. I wouldn't take it back. We've always had this connection, Tif." His hand brushed his hair and rested next to her fingers on the fabric. "It surprised me when you left, I figure you'd stay around."

"That's rude of you."

"I know." Cloud stretched his arms over his head. "I realize I'm an asshole, Tifa."

"And I'm a bitch." She laughed into the air. His face turned to look into her eyes.

"That's what makes this work, I suppose." Cloud laughed. "But we always find one another."

Her lips found his, this time. His hand cradled her skull while the other cupped the curve of her hip. In a swift motion, she parted her lips for him and straddled his hips. His hand gripped into the fabric of her pants, a part of his thumb caressed into the soft skin underneath.

 _God, you feel like home_. She spoke with her body, her arms lowering so their hearts could touch. His hand on her head moved down to her back. She probed further with her lips, begging for him to reveal what he was thinking. Her hands traced the outline of his muscles, the little roads she had missed travelling down. His lips tasted like amaretto and felt like that first morning coffee, slowly caressing her awake.

He moved to adjust the entwined bodies to lie on their sides. His hands met on the small of back, the cold air moved them to nestle under her shirt. His thumbs rubbed the edges of her spine. His mouth broke away from hers and began to navigate a sensually wet trail to the base of her neck. He shifted so he was hovering over her body, pinning her back to the bed of the truck.

"Tifa," he groaned into her collarbone. The sound of her name from his lips paused her heart. She lifted her body, supporting herself with her elbows. He looked at her, questions reverberating in his eyes.

"What'd I do?"

"Y-you said my name."

"Of course I did." His hands rested on her hips, his own elbows supporting his weight, and his chin rested just above her heart. Their breath intermingled, their chests rested and rose into the other.

He claimed her lips again, his hands reaching higher into her shirt, resting just below her rib cage. Her blood felt like boiling under the heat of his body, but she wouldn't let him go. Not this time.

Cloud's lips broke away and his hands moved to catch her face. He cradled her head and looked into her eyes. The intensity of the move made her weight shift, but he didn't budge.

"Tifa," His husky voice broke the dam in her heart. "Do you think that night meant nothing to me?"

The vibrating in her pocket made the blood move to her hands and he backed away. Rude's name flashed across the screen. She answered the phone while hoisted herself out of the truck.

"H-hello?" Was her voice really that breathless? She pinched her cheeks with her free hand.

"Did I wake you up?"

"Um… yeah. Yeah. But that's ok. What's up?"

"I wanted to see how you were." Tifa felt her skin crawl. She glanced at her watch. "It's three in the morning here."

"Well, you called me early this morning. So we're even." The skin on her thighs began to prickle. She looked over to Cloud, who has leaning against the truck, his eyes on her. She held up two fingers to him and returned to the phone call.

"That's not fair." She said. "I was worried."

She couldn't make anything else out other than the slurring voices in the background. He said something, but she didn't catch it. Her shoulders began to shake. Of all times for him to call!

Tifa flipped the PHS closed in the middle of his sentence. She turned around to Cloud, her eyes apologetic.

"You're still with him?"

She shrugged and buried the toe of her boot into the dirt. "I know how you feel." She kicked some of the dust into the air.

He caught exactly what she meant. His hand went through his blonde hair. He glanced around at the view before nodding to himself.

"We should probably get back." He glanced at his wrist. "I have a curfew at the clinic."

"Kind of a late curfew?"

"Tifa…"  
"Why, Cloud?"

"I could ask you the same question." He motioned to the PHS she pocketed. "At least I have an excuse."  
"I care about him." He let out a sarcastic laugh and crossed his arms. His hair moved in the wind.

"Do you kiss him like you kiss me?"

"I've slept with him more than I have with you."

"Yeah, and look where you are again." His fists balled, but Tifa could see them reference her stomach. "It doesn't take much to get you going."

"Neither does it for you."

"So we've reached an impasse. Sex doesn't mean love, you know that."

"Yes it does!" Tifa felt her foot stamp. "Unlike you, I don't whore myself around for a place to sleep. I do care about him, Cloud. He's good to me."

"You're not returning that are you?" He motioned to the bed of the truck. "You want this baby to a bastard, too?"

"God, don't you get it?" Tifa's hands ran through her hair and gripped her scalp.

He paused and looked at her.

"Aerith, Cloud!" Tifa faced him head on. "It's always her, isn't it? The one who you want more. I can't compete with a dead girl. That's why I left the first time." His body stiffened. She crossed through the field to stand closer to him.

"You don't think I ever noticed? You wouldn't even let me water your own damn, pink flowers! You were so distant, like you were looking for her. Hoping she'd come through the door and save you from your life with me. I'm sorry I'm such a poor choice, Cloud. But I love you. I always have. But even now, when you said my name, I'm not sure if you can stay this way. I couldn't live with the mood swings, let alone bring a baby into this world with you."

"So you knew."

"No. I didn't know! I left because I couldn't take it anymore. There was a time I was the most desired girl on the playground, in the slums, at the bar, yet you have this way of making me feel deformed. I couldn't take it anymore." She repeated this three more times until the tears rolled out of her eyes. She crumpled into the grass, rocking herself and coaxing the tears to stop.

The pressure added to her shoulders alerted her. Cloud pulled her into a hug, sliding her onto his lap. They sat in the field, he rocked her until the sobs subsided.

"Tifa, I'm messed up." He whispered it into her hair.

"We're all messed up, Cloud." Tifa resisted flying her fist into his chest. "I watched my dad die that night." She sniffled. "I saw Aerith die, too."

His arms wrapped tighter around her. The feeling comforted her more than she wanted it to.

"You say it's a processing problem?"

"Sometimes, I feel like myself and I miss the way things used to be. Other times, I feel disoriented and I can only focus on certain things – most of the time, it is her. I don't know if it's love or if it's the only thing the two warring parts of me can agree on knowing. I cared for her, Tifa."

"We all did." She spoke in between sobs. "Every single of one of us."

"If I could go back and change everything, I would." Cloud whispered into her hair. "I would've never left Nibelheim. I would've gone into blacksmithing or something and married you as soon as I got the chance. We'd have little black haired babies and you'd want for nothing." His own voice began to break. "But I can't, Tifa. I'm stuck with the ghosts in my head, telling me that there's nothing real anymore."

"Skye haunts me, Cloud." Tifa whispered through gritted teeth. "But you see me running from my present."

"Is that why you can't have a healthy discussion with your boyfriend about a pregnancy? "

Her heart stopped. She tried to wriggle out of his arms, but the muscles locked around her. She finally leaned back into his chest.

"This is it. Isn't it?" Tifa sobbed. "We've missed each other because we're both too stupid; because fate doesn't want us together."

Cloud didn't answer for a while. When he did, his words were weak and almost silent to Tifa's ears.

"This isn't fair." His hands cupped her face, his lips were breaths away from hers.

* * *

She walked into the bungalow without a word. Her stomach hurt, but she ignored the pain with each step. Dee and Nate had taken a hotel room for the night. For the first time in a long time, Tifa was alone.

She pushed into the bathroom and stripped off her shirt, studying the small stretch mark on her hip. Her clothes fell to the floor and she folded into the tub, turning the faucet on with her foot. The bath flooded around her tired body. The swelling in her stomach was noticeable.

"I guess I'll name you after Rude's mom." She whispered to her stomach. She pictured the baby with Rude's honey colored skin and her eyes. It would be attractive, tall, and athletic. Everything a parent wants from her child.

It was then that she noticed the thick red liquid break through the water.


	25. All that Remains

**Twenty-Five: All that Remains**

* * *

Tifa wrung the purple hospital gown in her fingers. She didn't wear it this time, it had been Dr. Tobey's way of letting her get her nervousness out. The sleeve of her white shirt sat on her wrist – no blood test was needed today.

"So, then, I just started bleeding." She balled the gown into her hands while she spoke. "I mean; it wasn't extra heavy or anything."

"Your period probably started late." Dr. Tobey sat on the wheeled chair and popped a grape in her mouth. "When was your last cycle?"

"That's the thing: I don't remember." The brunette shrugged. "I never really paid attention to it until I was pregnant with Skye and that was more of a 'hey, you haven't had a period in a month or two.'"

Dr. Tobey smiled into her coffee. "Well, your blood results should be in within the next hour or so. We can go from there."

"Perfect." The white haired lady's lips perked up at Tifa's use of the word. The situation wasn't perfect – it never would be. The hint of a smile playing on Tifa's lips, however, were a sign of progress in the young woman. The said woman caught the doctor's growing smile and perked an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You." Tifa swung her legs back and forth for a moment and studied the model of a baby in a womb. Dr. Tobey ignored the hint, "It's hard to believe that this time last year you were nothing but tears and stress. You're just calmer."

Tifa crumpled the gown further into her hands until it hid in the fist she made. Her mind sifted through memories of the last year. Indeed, she _was_ upset when she learned of her first pregnancy. The tears flowed heavy and hot when she calculated prices of small babies in the first years of their lives and having to play two parents at one time.

It wasn't until May, when the weather warmed and the sun shone bright, that she began to accept her situation for what it was – a chance to start over. She would save her money and relocate to Rocket Town or stay in Kalm. Anywhere with clean air and good schools. She'd work a regular 9-5 job and dip into her inheritance when needed. Then, she'd meet some nice guy and start over romantically, too.

Funny how life has a way of waking us up from our dreams.

" _If I could go back and change everything, I would."_ The words reverberated through her being. The last few words he had said to her, tinged with regret and wishful thinking.

She could've married him. She would have said yes if he'd asked. Sure, her father would have thrown a fit and insisted they wait until Cloud had some sort of decent income. She knew Papa Lockhart would relent and learn to love the wiry blonde man. If not at first, then at least when little babies came in the picture.

Her wishful thinking turned wistful. Even if Cloud hadn't left Nibelheim for SOLDIER, even if they had gotten married at 18, and even if they had their own little life together in a cottage – it wouldn't have stopped Sephiroth, it wouldn't have stopped the Mako drilling and the faulty reactor outside her little town, it wouldn't have stopped her father's death. If anything, it would have brought their own demise on top of any little babies they had brought into the world. Tifa never considered herself utilitarian, but she'd rather lose one child than two or three. She'd rather stay alive and in the pangs of regret than six feet under and suspended into nothing.

What Cloud would prefer? She couldn't answer. He was ever more the mystery to her. The worst part was her heart swelled at the thought of his name. She had told him she loved him – a sentence she couldn't utter to Rude even when she closed her eyes.

Rude. That was another problem.

"How's Cloud doing?" She spoke to pull herself out of her own spiral. Dr. Tobey looked up at her and smiled with a sense of knowledge that made Tifa uncomfortable.

"Well, for someone who started treatment not that long ago, surprisingly well." Another swig of coffee and bite of toast. "He's seemed to make peace with his past a long time ago, but I think he just needed someone to talk to."

"All those years of medical school for that."

"Right?" The doctor brushed crumbs off her lab coat and stood up to dispose of her trash. "I think he needs to get out of his mind. There are a few rehab centers opening up in and around this area that are very work intensive, but, in some cases, getting out of yourself is the best thing. Don't tell my colleagues I said that or they'd have my license." Tobey tutted on about prescription medication.

"Is he going to go?"

"He looks at the pamphlets like everyone else – disinterested." She laughed. "I think it's the stigma of it all – but it's very discreet. In fact, it won't even go on his record."

"Cloud's not worried about his record." _Terrorist. Experiment. Hero_. "He's more worried about lack of freedom."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Even as children he always had to have an escape route planned. A center that would enforce a curfew and monitor everything? That would drive him over the edge." Dr. Tobey dried her hands at the sink and walk over to her patient. Her lips pressed together in thought and her finger rested on her chin.

"I wonder if we could work out an arrangement. I know most of the directors, some very well. I'm sure they'd be willing to listen." She seated herself back in her chair. "You should talk to him about it."

"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea." As Tifa spoke, a knock reverberated on the door. The doctor excused herself for one moment to leave the room. She came back with a thick envelope with more than a few stamps on it.

"Why not?"

"History." Dr. Tobey's nails ripped through the packaging and fished for the papers inside.

"Well, the problem is if I can't talk him into it then it's the responsibility of his in case of emergency." She looked at her with a playful smile.

"Wait what?"

"I'll show you it when we get out of here. He never updated it, even when we asked him again. Though, I assume you have a new cell phone number given the wetness of your last one." Her bespectacled eyes ran across the page and then looked at Tifa. She handed her the papers.

"Not pregnant." She answered before Tifa could ask what the blood charts meant. "But, seriously, let's talk about the pill." She turned around to grab some equipment before adding: "and your new phone number."

 **0_0_0_0_0_0**

An hour long discussion and one prescription later, Tifa shrugged on her black coat and gave Dr. Tobey one last hug goodbye.

"You're heading back to Edge today?"

"Yeah, it feels right." Tifa sighed. "I have some things I need to work out." Tobey squeezed her tighter, the smell of jasmine made tears prick in Tifa's eyes. She released first and started out of the office. Her hands worked to straighten her scarf and pull her hair out of her collar.

She came to the cross section of the hospital. Forward was the shelter and the exit was the left. Forward was Cloud, and, to the left, was the cold, bitter air of Kalm in late January. Tifa's knees buckled for a second and considered the consequences of playing with fire. The feeling of the candle warming her during the night and comforting her when the nightmares come. She considered what may happen if she touched that candle one more time.

"Tifa?" It was Doctor Tobey behind her. Her arms crossed around her chest. The brunette didn't smile in response. The older woman raised her eyebrows.

"Visitor hours are on right now." Tobey said, the smile pulling at her lips was impossible to me. "Though, I would remind you that admitting it is the first step."

Tifa rolled her eyes and started down the left hallway. sShe ignored the tug at her heart when she cranked the engine and threw the truck into reverse. It didn't feel right to leave him alone in the sea of people. She shook those thoughts away in her black hair.

"He's not yours." She chastised herself. "He never was."

She hated herself for not regretting last night. If Rude hadn't called, there's no telling what she might've done. A part of her was happy he did and another part stirred in frustration. Cloud's lips felt like velvet and tasted like the morning mist. His body pressed against and they fit against each other's limbs like a glove.

She looked down and realized that she was speeding. She lifted her foot off the gas and tried to focus on the steady beat of the music. Her mind floated again to the unsteady rhythm of Cloud's heart as he pressed into her in anticipation of what was to come.

It felt different than the last time in the Chocobo stable. His lips moved slower and his hands took the time to almost memorize her skin this time. The first time they ever kissed, on his roof in Nibelheim, Tifa felt her knees go weak. This time, however, Tifa wanted him to crawl into her skin and never leave.

What was going on his head during that time? Tifa would give anything to find out. His confession, his regrets, the words that flowed from his lips – they felt like the memories she latched on to when he had chosen Aerith that night at the Golden Saucer. They were once reminders that she, Tifa Lockhart, had once been the object of his affection. Did she capture his attention again? Or was it because there was no one else to direct his gaze on to?

Tifa turned her indicator on as she neared the freeway back to Edge with the feeling that she had left something behind gnawing in her stomach. She turned the radio up to numb the ache and set her cruise for 85 miles per hour. Her tires inched to the right, her heart taking on the blinking light.

She couldn't do it.

 **0_0_0_0_0_0_0**

The heater had finally started blowing high and the starter log from the corner market had grown into a glowing fire when the kettle was done. Tifa, refreshed from a long shower, poured herself a cup, her wet hair wrapped in a white towel.

"I'm sorry, I should have called." The woman apologized. Tifa alsmot didn't recognize her in the long black coat. "Dee told me you'd be here." Vanessa's hazel eyes had a heaviness about them Tifa could understand. She stepped aside for the guest come in to the house. Tifa ran through the old hospitality tricks she had learned – an offer of tea, clearing the couch for her to sit, throwing some crackers on a plate and placing it on the middle table. Vanessa didn't accept a cup of tea or reach for the crackers, but she did perch on the sofa.

The hostess' hands flew up to the white towel that wrapped her hair but Vanessa shook her head. "No, no. I'm a guest here. Please, don't feel like you have to show out for me."

"Well, it's so hard when you're so put together." Tifa tried, cracking a small smile on Vanessa's smooth face.

"It would seem that way, wouldn't it?"

Tifa had never noticed Vanessa's hands before. Usually, she held folders and clipboards or folded her arms. Now, with her curled up on the couch, Tifa could see the long, slender fingers and lightly pink polished nails. The skin itself was the color of ripe peaches and free of veins and bony knuckles.

Those fingers smoothed over the same lines on her linen skirt. The ridges of fabric shook in between the flesh. Tifa never knew how old Vanessa was, but she'd guessed late 30's. She folded herself into the cushions, also. Out of nervousness, Tifa grabbed for a cracker. Her throat dried when she bit it – stale.

"How's Dee?" Tifa asked after a long swig of tea. Some remains of the cracker remained in her throat. Tifa cleared her throat.

"She's fine. She called me this morning saying she was nauseous." Vanessa glanced down at her hands. "I drove up yesterday and her father flew in during the afternoon."

"How's he taking everything?"

"She's his baby. She could accidentally press a nuclear launch button and still manage to bat her eyes and he'd make everything ok." Vanessa smiled to herself. "He's not taking to Nate very well, but what father would?"

"Yeah." Tifa glanced at her own nails.

"I wanted to stop by and thank you for all you've done." Vanessa reached for Tifa's arm. "I know I wasn't my best when Dee delivered the news."

"It was the least I could do." Tifa waved her hand.

"No. It's more than the least." Vanessa laughed. "But that's you, isn't it? Always sacrificial."

Tifa shook her head. "I just - I know what it's like." Vanessa didn't seem to listen. "You want what's best for Dee, after all."

"I never planned on getting married." Vanessa stared at the wall as she spoke, her hand still grasping Tifa's elbow. "Not when I was a girl, not as a teenager. I was too stubborn for men, plus, my own mother had been through enough men for most of Gaia." A soft laugh approved Tifa's emerging smile. "No. For me, it was books, numbers, and school. That got me far. As far away from home as I could be. I was so happy. I had my own apartment, my own life, my own job."

"And then?" Tifa asked when Vanessa paused.

"And then I met James, Diedre's father. I never believed in fairy tales, it was the stuff of fools. But he and I had the rapturous sort of love that blurs dream with reality. I had Dierdre shortly after we married. I wanted the world for that little baby. I remember when she first looked at me, she had her daddy's eyes."

"I wanted to badly for her to be greater than me. Something more than just a mother."

Tifa snorted.

"I would never have picked adoption for anyone else, but she's just a girl." Vanessa said. "The only adult thing she can do is make a baby."

"I don't think you're giving her the credit she deserves."

"She hasn't proven herself yet. She can't even manage her own bank account."

"Babies have an odd way of making us grow up."

Vanessa looked at Tifa for a moment. Tifa glanced into the hazel eyes of her boss and felt herself grow bold.

"Vanessa, I'm sure Dee's told you everything. About my baby, my experience. All I wanted the entire time was my mom."

"Did you shut her out, too?"

"She died when I was eight." The cause of death pleaded to reveal itself, but Tifa decided against it. Her mother had always been a sad, far-off woman. She remembered her father the day of the funeral, stiff-jawed and bleary eyed. He had told her, once when she was older, that he had dreaded that moment the day he married her.

"And your father?"

"Dead, also." Tifa watched Vanessa's jaw stiffen.

"I'm sorry, Tifa. I didn't know."

"Please, don't worry about it. I don't like to be defined by my past." Vanessa nodded at this, but her eyes still lingered on the skin of her arms.

"How trivial we all must be to you." Vanessa patted Tifa's elbow. "You shouldered all this alone and now you're watching it the way it should be."

Tifa's skin pricked at this. "I made my own choices."

The older woman only nodded. The judgement still lingered in the room.

"Really. Please don't pity me."

"I don't pity you." Vanessa cleared her throat. "Not the way you'd expect me too, anyway. No. You're a strong one, but you rely on that strength to distinguish yourself from the rest."

"I don't think you came here to psychoanalyze me."

"You're right. I didn't." Her arms reached into her bag. "I came to make you an offer."

"To buy me off?"

"There's nothing to buy off. Deirdre made her mistakes, but who is even going to country clubs anymore? Not since they turned them into psych wards for those living under the plate." She shook her brown curls. "No. I'm here to offer you the pub."  
"What?"

"Well, Deirdre is set on staying here in Kalm. Nathaniel's family is from here and it's close enough for her father to visit before the baby is due." She shrugged. "So, I'm moving here to take care of my baby's baby."

"I can't accept this."

"Why? It's paid for. You've got more experience than me and you miss it."

"I don-"

"You do." Vanessa fished the property agreement out of her creamy leather handbag and passed it over to Tifa. "It's paid for, and I don't need to turn over a profit."

"Vanessa…"

"I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."

Tifa eyed through the legal wording. "The first thing I'm going to do is change the name." Vanessa gathered her bag and belongings to her person and stood up in clean sweep, as if she were lighter than air. She handed Tifa a pen for her signature needed on the last page.

"So I trust you're leaving in the morning?" Vanessa looked over the house, her nose wrinkled. Tifa returned the pen when she had finished.

"Looks like it." Tifa stood up to see her guest out. They walked to the sleek, silver car that looked out of place in the dirt driveway. "Would it be ok if I redecorate?"

"It's your place. Not mine." Vanessa turned around to look at the girl, a warm smile pulling at her lips. She opened her arms for the younger woman to step into.

"I really have to thank you for everything." Tifa whispered after she broke away from the hug. "Seriously, the job, letting me put in an alcohol license."

"I always knew you'd impress me." The warm smile, etched with years of laugh lines grew.

"Dee can too, you know."  
"She's going to have it harder than I wanted for her." Vanessa turned to the car, studying her reflection in the glass. She turned back and patted Tifa's shoulder.

"If you remember, take a look at the storage closet." She reached into her pocket and handed her a pair of brass keys. "I've left something in there for you."

Tifa stood in the dust left over from the tires, her arms caught in her elbows. She looked up into the overcast. Rain threatened soon. She thumbed the keys in her pocket.

"Square one." She whispered into the air. "I told you I'd make you proud."

Last year had been pockmarked with pink lines and a small mound of dirt. She reflected on how hard she had tried to hide that year - to start over again. Yet, all that remained was a pair of keys in her pocket and a decision she needed to make.

She needed to go back to Edge.


	26. Out of Gas

_This chapter is brought to you in part by the remodeling of my office and an extra long lunch break. Jackhammers - ruining productivity since 1894._

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Six: Out of Gas**

* * *

The plan was as follows: she'd come home nine days before Rude came home and work on finding a new place, maintaining the pub until she could make her own changes to it, and moving her own items out of his apartment. This breakup would be as clean as possible. She worked up the courage that night when she slept in the blue bed she and Cloud had shared once before. That morning, as she packed up the final bits of her things – the books, extra clothes, and nick knacks she had forgotten the first time and loaded into her truck. She sat behind the wheel and before cranking the ignition.

God, how familiar this scene felt. She palmed the rough, worn leather of her steering wheel. She'd left in the mid-afternoon, on a snowy day. Her hair was longer and her belly didn't reveal its secret to her yet. To her, it was the most logical decision because it was the toughest to make.

Now, sitting in the car, engine idling, she realized that the most logical decisions were the easiest to make. It was the shots in the dark, the ones forced in her mind when people handed her favors without any expectations of payback – those were the hardest to make.

Her breath cut through the cold air as she shifted the car into reverse and then to drive – away from ground zero. Her final destination was the belly of the beast. The weight in her heart grew heavier when she pulled onto the freeway. Her fist punched the radio on and a crooning voice soared through the static with messages of cruel lovers.

But her lover wasn't cruel. Nor was he bad in any sense of the word. She threw her head back against the seat of the truck and set her cruise control. In the far right lane, she knew she had to keep going.

Tifa had the curse of coming into this world beautiful and privileged. If her poetic last name wasn't proof, then it was the monogrammed sheepskin blanket her mother swaddled her in and the array of fresh, organic fruits and vegetables her father insisted she eat. She grew up not in want of anything nor did she know that neediness existed. AVALANCHE knew of the silver spoon that once rested in her mouth and exploited it every chance they took, and she hated herself for it.

The first time she ever experienced pain, the true and numbing kind, was at 5 when her mother decided that she didn't want the simple life anymore. Her father had sat his little daughter down and explained that mommy was going away for a while with promises to visit at Christmas and birthdays. Three years later, the uncommonly pretty woman with the long black hair was found on the property of her childhood home. Dead. By this time, though, Mr. Lockhart tried to make his little princess forget about any hole a mother could have left with everything a girl could've wanted – a pony by 6, and a KinderStove by 7. A small, blonde family happened to move next door within the time frame, too.

She still had her moments of acting out, like running away to Mount Nibel to find her mother, where Cloud saved her. The first time she had any attention paid to her feelings and not just the pretty colored dresses she wore. Perhaps that was when she became addicted to the rush of falling in love. That "blonde bastard," as her father articulated after two glasses of brandy, took hold of her heart and the circles he threw into her mind. Those eyes, which were always blue, branded on her mind. Tifa couldn't articulate it then, but she knew from first meeting that he'd be the great love of her life. She didn't know, however, that her life would take such sad twists and turns.

When Cloud left Tifa dated without regard. It pleased her father to see her out with the sons of ShinRa employees, bankers, lawyers, and the like. She was more thrilled with the attention they paid her, even if it touched the surface of her affection. Yet, to her father's dismay, she didn't pursue anything further. She was 15, she'd remind him, she had a lifetime to settle down and give him grandchildren.

She didn't mourn the loss of her mother, but her father's death about killed her. The worst part of all was she couldn't give him a proper burial and goodbye until years after while her mother, beautiful and foolish, rested in the family plot.

It was that reason that she extended the invitation to Cloud.

Days after their encounter in the stable. They returned home together, to assess how far they had come. They stopped in the cemetery and looked over the fake graves they had hidden their parents' bodies in. The exhuming process would take a week and cost more than Cloud could afford. Her small headstone in the back of the gated area looked lonely.

Tifa, rejuvenated from not dying, pointed to the space between her father and mother. It was intended for Tifa's eventual demise, but she didn't know where she would end up in the next sixty years.

"Emily can be here." She explained to him. His arm looked strong in the sleeves of his black shirt. He wore jeans and his sword rested in the back of the car. She had hoped, on the car ride from the airport, that he would grab for her hand. When that didn't happen, she expected him to lean on her in the graveyard as he overlooked his mom's space.

They had been close, even if everyone in town questioned Ms. Strife's reputation, no one questioned her devotion to her son. She earned the money to move to Nibelheim for her child's only chance at life. How she earned that money? Well, that was what the rumors concerned themselves with answering. It was funny, though, at the moment in the cemetery. Tifa had never heard Cloud answer his mother when she told him that she loved him and was proud of him, but looking over him watching his mother's grave, she understood the depth of emotion he felt for the young mom – beautiful but tragic.

"No." He shook his head. "She'll stay here."

"Cloud, we can at least get her a proper headstone. This one's meant for babies."

"We were outcasts here." He turned to her, his blue eyes weren't fiery with anger or heavy with melancholy. Instead, they were accepting. Of the situation, the choices, the headstone – everything.

 _I wish you would let me in_. She begged in her thoughts. She probably looked like a desperate addict – her body still shook in euphoria from their encounter those days ago, but he hadn't brought it up. His neck still boasted light pink marks and his lips were still swollen, but he'd blame it on the fight when someone brought it up.

"B-but." Tifa tucked a piece of hair behind her hair. "She deserves so much better."  
Cloud didn't answer. His hand reached up and hovered close to her face, his fingers rested on her shoulders after a moment and gave a soft squeeze.

"We all do." Their eyes locked for a moment. Tifa realized that he contained multitudes and she was only one singular line.

And that line led her straight back to Edge.

Tifa pulled in to the parking lot of the apartment complex and shifted her truck into park. She took a long stretch before shutting off the engine. She looked over her torso, hidden behind her black coat and a few other layers of clothes. She rubbed the flat plane and smiled. She was off the hook.

She pushed open the door and gathered her own black bag. After locking up her own vehicle and turned around to survey the gray air. A thick fog settled around her feet and ankles and the sky, as always, was cloudy. She looked up, searching for any ray of sunlight like she had seen in Kalm. She thought about how much she missed the full moon the night before. When she kissed Cloud.

Agh. Rude. Her heart stilled in her chest when she thought of him. The phone call. The attitude. What happened to the man who promised her they'd work it out? Even if she had kissed another man, that didn't excuse his behavior – he didn't know what was going on. For all he knew, Tifa was sitting in the bathroom waiting to find out about a possible pregnancy.

The more she tried to justify herself, the worse she felt. She readjusted her bag and pulled out her apartment key. It was a walk up to the unit. She rolled her neck and lifted her head to see Rude's sleek, black car sitting in the far corner. Her throat dropped into her stomach. She wasn't ready for him to be home yet.

The thought of jumping back in the truck and driving away for an hour tempted her, but that was delaying the inevitable. Ultimately, Cloud was right – she was just as bad as he was. She'd whored herself out emotionally.

So, she pocketed her key and started up the stairs. Her bag felt heavier by the second. She couldn't hear anything on the other side of the door, but the heaviness of the air told a different story. She unlocked the door, pushing it open as quiet as she could, and called into the air.

The lights over the bar were on and the lowball glasses with traces of condensation and small portions of brown liquid leftover told her he hadn't been alone. His bags were on the floor and opened. Articles of clothes were thrown around the floor.

This wasn't like him.

The bed wasn't made and the shower was still wet. He must've left with his guest, if he had one. Tifa set her own bag down and began to unpack, straightening out Rude's mess, too. Though, Rude's definition of mess was most people's definition of "lived in," but the counters did need a good wipe down and some nooks needed dusting. Tifa obliged to apartment's needs and, indirectly, to her own hammering heart. Nothing soothed her frayed nerves like running water and fresh dish soap when she rinsed out the glasses. She dried and replaced them in the cupboard. Whoever was here probably analyzed her and Rude's relationship.

The thought of this alone made Tifa reach for one of those dried glasses and pour the honey colored liquid to the brim. She drank it straight, letting the burn sliding down her throat conjure up images of her own sins. The rest of the drink followed with ease, not enough to get drunk of course, but enough to let the situation fade into the blackness of the room and the feeling of comfort, albeit artificially, warmed her chest. She considered refilling, but stopped herself. Instead she padded over to the couch and flung herself on it. The warmth spread through her chest, tingling in her fingers and igniting in her toes. Energy threatened catapulted her off the couch and but the venom in the whiskey talked her mind out of her body and into hang into the empty air.

The answer etched itself into her brain a long time ago. The emotions, the memories, and her own vulnerability buried over the words. The alcohol in her system and her bygone pregnancy scare swept the dust and dirt away from the most obvious, natural choice left. She reached for her phone, but it wasn't in her pocket. Her hands rubbed her face when she tried to remember.

 _Bedroom_. Tifa groaned and voted against getting up, crossing her elbows and resting them over her eyes. That three-hour drive still reverberated in her bones. The feeling of the wind on the road still circled in her ears.

The door to the apartment opened and slammed with a solid _thud_. She lifted her elbows off her eyes to see Rude holding on to the doorknob. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses.

Rude started toward her body. Tifa's knees pulled into her chest and she unfolded herself from the couch in a single push. His shoulders pushed forward and his legs made strides to her straight ones. She tried to relax her shoulders and spine. She reached for the envelope she had set on the coffee table and shoved it toward him.

His hands snatched it out of hers and he ripped through the rest of the envelope. The pieces of paper fell to the floor like confetti during clean up. He stared at the words longer than Tifa felt comfortable.

"Not pregnant." She answered after a few moments of him flipping the papers back and forth in his hands. His neck craned up to look at her. Tifa shook her head and shrugged. "I didn't need it. My period came that night."

The papers fell to the floor and he enveloped her in a hug tight enough to break her ribs. Tifa hugged back, but the detached feeling lingered in the room.

"You're home early." She spoke into his shoulder. He released her from his grip.

"I told Tseng I was little out of it."

"So you just left Reno there?"

"He's not mad."

Tifa sighed. Rude grabbed for her wrists, circling around the small bones like shackles. "I was going to drive up to Kalm tomorrow, but you beat me to it."  
"I needed to come back." Tifa wanted to tell him about the bar, but opted not to. This wasn't the time for good news. "After I found out I wasn't pregnant-" she stopped when she saw Rude raise his hands to the ceiling and mouth a 'thank you.' He looked over at her to see Tifa's arms crossed and her mouth scowling.

"What?"

"Odd behavior for an atheist." Rude, who still hadn't replaced his sunglasses, rolled his eyes at her comment.

"It was a joke."

"Were you really that worried?"

"Yes." Rude crossed into the kitchen and Tifa followed.

"Why?"

He gave her a look suggesting that she should know why. He reached in the refrigerator for a beer. The top popped off with ease and he downed most of it before looking over at her again.

"I don't want kids." He shrugged.

"Well, that's news."

"Not really." He took another swig, "the hints were there."

"That's not the same as telling me." His eyebrows perked and he looked over at her. Tifa knew what he was going to say about family life as a Turk. She spoke before he could articulate this point.

"You weren't back with the Turks when we met."

"Still didn't want 'em."

"You've known _I_ wanted them."

"No, I didn't." Rude threw his can away and leaned against the counter. "You told me you had a miscarriage."

"I had a baby who died." Rude's snort said what she needed to hear. Her arms locked in front of her chest. He didn't look at her when he began to exit the room.

Tifa couldn't help herself: "funny, when Cloud heard that he had a lot more reaction than you."

The glare in his eyes made coils wrap around her intestines. He was a smart man; he didn't need to ask questions. He connected all the links before Tifa could blink.

"You're not doing me any favors," Rude crossed the room as he spoke. "Staying here. I don't need this in my life."

"Well, neither do I." Tifa's spine straightened and her arms hugged tighter to her chest. The beat of her heart aligned with the ticking clock in the kitchen. "You're gone all the time."

"I left once." His even voice unnerved her. "You run off to _him_ when I leave."

"That's not fair. I didn't know he was there!"  
"Then why do I have the feeling that's not the only time you saw him, Tifa?" Her name sounded venomous on his tongue. She didn't answer, but stormed out of the living room and into the bathroom. Her fingers shook as she turned the tub on warm water and dumped the rest of her bubble bath into the tub. She didn't bother to lock the door; he wouldn't come around.

When the tub filled, she discarded her clothes and sat in the water. She drew her knees to her chest and rocked herself.

That was their first fight.

Why did she have to bring up Cloud? She lowered her head into the water and worked through the knots in her scalp. She knew the answer. Her hands ached to run through the blonde spikes, look into those blue eyes. Hell, she'd rather be in a fight with him than Rude.

It was then that the door creaked open and Rude walked in. His stride took him to the edge of the tub. He didn't look at her.

"If you're going to stay, then please stop talking to him."

"Do you even want me to stay?" She pushed forward in the water to rest her chin on the edge of the tub.

"What?"

"What do you want, Rude?" He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"I want you, Tifa. But I also want my job and my lifestyle. Kids don't fit into this picture." She shifted to rest against the tub while he continued.

"What would career day look like? Dad covers up illegal activity and mom sits at home pretending he doesn't. We both don't have parents, who would take care of them when you're working late and I'm away? Do you see how selfish it would be to bring a kid into this world?"

"It wouldn't be selfish. Not as selfish as getting rid of it because you're too afraid of how it would affect your schedule." Tifa huffed. "I'm not even pregnant."

"I don't want kids. That's the point. I like us how we are."

" _This?_ You like that we don't talk to each other? That we aren't honest?" Tifa threw her arms open in desperation, water splashed out of the tub. "All we do is fuck and talk about how we're going to make things better."

"I've been trying."

"You've been trying?"

The look in his eyes shrank her about three inches.

"This isn't working is it?"

"Has it ever?"

Tifa shook her head. The frown grew on Rude's face.

"I mean, God, I care about you." Tifa raked a hand through her wet hair.

"I care about you, too."

"It's not love."

"We both realize that." Rude answered. "I'm too old for this."

"Too old for what?"

"To be the second pick, Tifa. I know, if you'd have your way, I wouldn't be here next year."

"That's not true!" Tifa insisted. She mumbled on about the fun they had with one another – the beach, the dates before moving in.

"And you've been so good to me." She finished after a long pause. Her wet hair fell in front of her face.

"You haven't been bad yourself." Rude answered. "And the sex."

"The sex!" Tifa through her hands over her face and sank deeper in the water. "It's criminal how good that sex is."

"But that's all it is." A smile tugged on Rude's lips. "If all else fails…"

"No." Tifa laughed. "Maybe one drunken night a month or two from now. But not regularly."

Rude slapped his knee. "At least I have a drunken night."

She smiled at him, still naked in the tub. He pushed off the edge and handed her a clean towel. He exited before she stepped out of the water. Nothing else was needed. He slept on the couch that night and left way before she woke up the next morning. Not that it mattered, she only had three boxes worth of stuff, including Skye's things.

The strings on her heart didn't pull as she drove out of the parking lot and on to the road. This was a good thing – she had a change of heart and he felt the same way. He could return to his suit with as little baggage as possible.

And her? Well, she pulled into the closed pub Vanessa had given her and unlocked the door to the building. It was dark and smelled like lemons. She didn't know why she went to the storage closet first – truthfully, she didn't even know there was a storage closet here. Vanessa kept everything not restaurant related locked.

But now she had the master key. She trotted to the door the read "Storage" on the side and worked the shaking keys into the lock. She twisted the knob. The flight of stairs didn't daunt her tired legs, and she didn't think to grab a flashlight. She pushed up to the level.

The space bore a full bathroom and tiny kitchen and plenty of room to grow.

It was a loft.

It was home.


	27. Out of the Ashes

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Out of the Ashes

* * *

Cloud remembered the first time she kissed him.

It had been long, spring day full of goodbyes, but mostly good riddance's, from his mother and the very few acquaintances he had forged during his time in Nibelheim – like the town drunkard and the doctor who completed his physical for admission into SOLDIER candidacy. He hadn't gone to school that day because he formally withdrew the Friday before. He spat on the steps to the building on his way home. It'd be the last time he soiled the one place he hated the most before he made something of himself.

He had passed by the building during a free-range study hall time designated for older students. Some were on the steps cramming in the last few lines of _LOVELESS_ or finishing their chemistry homework, but most were sitting on the greening grass enjoying the first beautiful days of sunlight.

He looked in the throng of sun worshipers for one person.

He felt his pulse quicken as he imagined her resting on her forearms, her front facing the glorious rays of light, her chest, well ample and totally natural – Jessica Riche be damned with her stuffing theory – rose to meet every beam. Her head hung loose, her neck tilted back to drink up every bit of vitamin D she could before study hall ended.

Shiva, she was a looker. Cloud thought of her usual school outfit – a simple choice of a charcoal skirt and a blue button up. He had an urge soak up every ounce of warmth in her body. He couldn't look at her straight during math class.

That damn Johnny sat across from her in the same classes, though Cloud could hear the laughter pour out of Tifa's pink lips as he thought about it. The rumors had been circulating for weeks that Johnny and Tifa were secretly dating. Cloud knew the truth though: their fathers did business together. Tifa hung around him just to save face for her father's failing hotel ever since Shinra manor started renting out overpriced rooms. Johnny's father conducted tours and planned to hire Tifa as a tour guide once she could memorize her script. Cloud only knew this because of his and Tifa's Sunday hikes to the other side of the mountain. She spilled secrets like an over flowing wine goblet and he drank that nectar silently while imaging what she'd said about him to her other friends.

She wasn't there in the newly growing grass. He guessed she was inside with her friends reapplying chap stick and making after school plans or studying. He kicked the concrete under his feet but didn't deny the relief that washed over his body. He didn't want to bid farewell to Tifa. The finality of the words "good" and "bye" together made a strange feeling stir in his chest. He found himself tongue tied anytime he smelled her lavender shampoo. Plus, there wasn't anything good enough to say to her. He was leaving. She knew since she was nine that he wanted to do this.

He couldn't forget the distance that lodged in between the two after he showed her his physical scores – all perfect. She smiled that cordial smile, but gave him the same faraway look she gave when she wanted to be elsewhere.

He looked up at the sound of falling footsteps and a rattling fence. Johnny, with his carrot colored hair and bucked teeth, eyed the blonde.

"Miss it already?" His teeth looked like daggers.

Cloud snorted but didn't say a word.

"Whatever, man. Be that way. I came up here to wish you luck, but I guess I have to take it away." Johnny didn't pass his physical and would have to wait until next year. From five feet away Cloud could smell the cheese on his breath.

Cloud craned his neck around the lanky build of the boy, hoping to see a wave of dark hair coming up to them to stop whatever fight might be brewing. Johnny caught his eyes darting from left to right.

"She ain't here, man."

"Whaddya mean?"

Johnny shrugged and walked away.

"Hey! Come back when I talk to you!" Cloud snapped at the back of Johnny's shirt, but it was no use. The bell had rung and the crowd of blankets and bare feet were clamoring inside the building. He took this time to shuffle out of the school's sight. Tifa wouldn't miss him. She'd flick him away from her hair with the right index finger. She was heartbreaking in that quiet way. Much like this town that never accepted him nor his mother – outwardly beautiful yet quietly skillful in sucking the life out of the people who couldn't fit the cookie-cutter image.

*insert break*

Everything seemed so plain and simple in his head – eat dinner, pack, go to sleep early. Yet when he finally got around to box up his small room he could only focus on his mother's sobs. The sound of her breath catching in her throat made his spine straighten.

"Mom." The words were calm. "Not this again."

Age suited Emily. The eight years they spent in the rich mountain air made her cheeks rosier and the clean water made her blonde braid thicker. When her eyes weren't puffy and red with tears, they were still beautiful and without wrinkles. She held her sleeves up to her eyes but didn't wipe.

"I can't help it, you're my little baby." Her chin shook.

"I'm 13." The sobs got harder. "Mom."

Emily put a delicate hand on his shoulder. The veins under the skin were still soft enough to miss. Cloud opened up his arms and caught the weight of his mother in his shoulders. The tears stained the back of his shirt. The night had been quiet up to this point but included his favorite dinner and soft drinks. He pretended not to notice the coupons hiding in his mother's checkbook when she came home from the grocery store. Between the multiple physician's visits and all the gear needed for SOLDIER candidacy, it had left a significant dent in the family's budget.

Emily's sobs turned into whimpers and then stopped. She stepped out of her son's arms but kept her hands on his shoulders. He was taller than her now by four inches but still had a small frame.

"I hope they feed you there." She remarked after squeezing the bones. Cloud smiled before launching into one of the things he'd read about food service in Shinra.

"It comes out of your paycheck, but only a small amount!" He reached back over to pack up the rest of his newly issued gear. "I'll be able to send so much money home, mom. You'll want for nothing!"

Emily could only smile at her son and wonder why boys felt the need to prove themselves this way. Cloud helped out in the family as he could – delivering packages, running messages and errands for the shopkeepers in the area. He was timely and cordial. The money wasn't great, but it contributed to a small emergency fund.

Though she knew the real reason wasn't for their financial security – it made more sense to take on an apprenticeship, Cloud knew this. No, this was something more inclined to the world of her teenager: male pride and the ever increasing need to assert it.

She didn't say anything further, but left her quiet son to his thoughts. The door shut with a solid _thud_.

Cloud drew the strings of another bag together and set it on the floor next to the door. He fluffed his hair, resting the fingers on the pulse point in his neck. His mind lingered on Johnny's voice. She wasn't there. His last day in town, and she didn't even let him know that she'd skipped school. What had she done that day? Was she sick?

He could've seen her that morning. He could have said goodbye this morning.

She was so pretty in the soft morning light, too. She was pretty in the afternoon sun, too. She was just a pretty girl. He didn't know why he couldn't fixate on anything else but her mouth, always pretty and dusty pink.

Cloud realized he needed to see her.

The window lifted with ease, those reverse flies he started to do at the gym made him stronger. He crossed through the two houses and stopped at Tifa's window. The dim light of her lamp was on and she was curled on her red and yellow quilt, a book in her hands.

He felt the rush of blood move somewhere lower than his heart. Her midnight colored hair hung in a side braid and her skin was shiny with a fresh wash. Those big, garnet colored eyes were focusing on the words on the page and her teeth had her bottom lip in-between them.

She was so exotic compared to the brunettes and blondes with olive skin tones. Her skin was like coffee creamer. He didn't understand these feelings, but he knew he wanted to dance his fingers over her hands.

(It's now or never.)

He knocked on the window before he could stop himself. The quiet moments before she set her book down to the surprise in her eyes when she saw who was calling were sweet moments of suspense Cloud could live in forever.

She opened her window but didn't whisper his name. Instead, he grabbed for her hand and pulled her on to the roof of her home. It had been their secret ritual.

"You weren't in school today,"

"I had a headache," she explained as her legs settled next to him. She glanced at him through the side of her eyes – which looked puffy.

The sinking in his heart was undeniable. "You weren't going to say goodbye?"

"I said goodbye." She snapped. Her arms wrapped around her knees and she rocked herself on the roof. She reached her arm out to nudge him. "Last autumn, remember?"

"That doesn't count. You know that." He looked at her, but could only study her profile. The curve of her nose, the density of her eyelashes – these were all things he'd taken in before, but somehow seemed more heartbreaking at this moment.

She turned to face him. In a swift movement of arms and knees, she was holding on to his shoulders.

"We're not going to fall." She whispered more to herself. He knew she hated heights. Cloud shook his head, unsure of what was next.

Then those dusty lips met his. All he could do was wrap an arm around her shoulders.

It was over in a moment with the sound of Tifa's bedroom door opening. Cloud scurried over to his roof and jumped into his open window. His breath staggered out of his lungs.

She had kissed him. Tifa Lockhart had kissed him.

She'd never kissed anyone before. Neither had he. He had never liked the idea of kissing, but now he wanted to do it again. He wanted his fingers to undo that braid and hold the skin on her hips.

"She's not a good idea, Cloud." His mother spoke, her body erect in the doorway.

"Mom."

"No." Her lips pressed in a thin line and her head shook from left to right. "She's nice. Don't get me wrong, I do like her."

"I don't have time for this."

"It's not that." Her brown eyes softened. Cloud crossed the room, taking his socks off in the process and throwing them in the hamper.

"Then what is it?" The blood pulsed around Cloud's ears. Beads of sweat formed in his scalp. Emily stood still in the doorway, her arms tightened around her chest. Her lips tightened against her teeth.

"Mom?"

"Don't tie yourself down yet." She shrugged. "Especially with a country girl used to a certain standard of living and attention." She moved across the room and sat beside him on the bed. Her long fingers brushed a piece of hair away from his forehead. "You'll meet plenty of girls just as beautiful as her and just as strong as you."

"She's not strong?"

"I can't say. All I know is you're stronger." She placed a kiss on his temple. "You're my son, Cloud. My late Christmas present. I want nothing but the best for you."

Cloud lowered his head and studied the bumps in his knees. He needed to grow three more inches to qualify for SOLDIER first class by 16. He would then need, at least, twenty more pounds of muscle.

The remnants of her honey suckle lips floated into his nostrils. His spine straightened and his shoulders squared as soon as he remembered that she had kissed him.

He felt unstoppable.

* * *

The sweat pooled around Cloud's scalp and in the corners of his elbows. The cot felt smaller than usual as the blankets stuck to his skin. Everything felt small, he could feel the breath of those refugees sharing the space. The poor ventilation only enhanced the smell of body odor, vomit, and something much danker that he didn't want to spend thoughts on.

He needed to get out of here.

The muscles in his esophagus closed around his tonsils when he tried to swallow. His arms tensed around the edges of the cot as yet another person flipped over with loud abandon. The sun was just breaking through the overcast sky, flooding the room with light and illuminated the bodies next to the blonde. They looked pale – almost gray, and tired. The souls seem to leave their eyes.

Feeling the walls tighten around his peripherals, Cloud jumped out of the cot and slapped on his pants and shoes. His welcome was overstayed. It was time to move on: maybe to Edge, maybe to Rocket Town – he didn't care. His stomach churned, begging his nostrils to stop smelling the decay.

He grabbed for his bag and filled it in a manner that half of his things hung from the outside of the zipper. The straps of the bag hung around his elbow, rubbing the skin underneath. His steps out of the clinic were long and hurried. When he finally got to Fenrir he decided to adjust his bag, crumpling the clothes into a ball and sitting them at the bottom.

He began to feel normal once the engine roared to life. He took out of the parking lot well above the speed limit. The open road relaxed the muscles in his neck and cleared his senses of the sickness and the decay he'd been sleeping with for the last few weeks. The clarity helped his mind move to places he needed to visit, but had been putting off. His skin itched against the sting of the wind.

The flashback had been disguised as a dream. A sweet dream bordered by the vibrant spring air he missed and lavender scents. It was a dream that reminded him of what once mattered the most to him. The need to prove himself, the need to belong, the need to be something.

What would that boy he saw the world through think of him now?

Dr. Tobey said these thoughts were dangerous and they'd tempt the thinker with velvet and silk. What she didn't know was these thoughts were completely right.

A hero who couldn't save his mother or his friend.

A father who couldn't protect his child.

The road sign indicated there was 300 miles between him and his destination. Which meant four hours to formulate something, anything, to find out about the part of him lying in the Nibelheim plot.

The engine roared up the ramp. Cloud gritted his teeth against the cold wind. Into the cold morning he rode – the sun breaking up the gasses in the sky.

* * *

 _Oh my goodness, I cannot believe I'm over 70,000 words! Once again,a huge thank you for all who read, follow, favorite. and review this little story. The support means the world to me._


	28. Tired of Talking

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Tired of Talking

* * *

February greeted Edge with sprinkles of sunlight and traces of heavy dew. The air nipped at the crevices of buildings and people, and the wind could still a fountain, but it was progress. To Tifa, uncurling herself from her sleeping position and arching her back into a long stretch, that's all she could want.

The weak light poked through the curtains to loosen the joints chilled from the night before. She had insisted on placing her bed next to the windows. The state of the building meant she couldn't eliminate the presence of the cold air, but, if she were honest, Tifa preferred it this way.

She rolled her shoulders to her ears and shook out the ends of her hair. Tifa hugged the over-sized sweater closer to her skin and breathed in the scent of the fabric. A smile crossed her face. She woke up alone in the middle of her queen sized bed. The white sheets and purple kaleidoscope quilt wrapped around her body and no one else's. She had all the warmth and didn't have to share. Her cells surged with new-found energy. She threw her arms down and looked around the small room.

 _Her_ small room.

Tifa claimed the second set of stairs, those leading to an intended attic as her personal sanctuary. An homage to memory foam and throw pillows highlighted with accents of dark wood. She hadn't slept in a bed this comfortable since… well…

She shook the thought away. Pink and purple clashed. Clashing colors led to negativity. Negativity wasn't allowed in her space.

Tifa made her bed to start the day as a way to cleanse her pallet of dreams and any thoughts of regret that crept into her blurry morning vision. She then flushed those thoughts down the drain in the shower. The outside air crept in around the bottom of the shower curtain and curdled around her feet. She pulled the hot water faucet perpendicular to her stomach and allowed the heat to rub her skin raw.

She had lived here for two weeks now. She first closed the pub indefinitely with the promise that the renovations could be done as quickly as possible. There was a list of phone numbers of eager contractors sitting on the cash register. The small loft with three bedrooms upstairs had been furnished with as little of her inheritance as she could manage.

Most of said renovations were in the bathroom – a shower that sprayed hot water and a flushable toilet made her mornings that much brighter. Especially this morning. The steam collected on the mirror from her shower and Tifa trusted the outlines she could make out in the ghost white film to brush her teeth and rub lotion on her skin. The mirror had been on the list of updates: placed two inches above her eyebrows and arranged in symmetrical rectangles. The small pieces of mold framing the glass didn't help the situation either. She'd get to those parts later on in the day.

She cleared her throat and backed away from the steamy room. Her hair had been growing fast and now hung over the edge of her shoulders. She'd considered snipping it back into shape with the dull scissors in her kitchen more than a few times, but thought otherwise when she considered how much of the year hung in the ends.

An alert on her PHS reminded her she had other things to do with her day.

* * *

Maybe it was vibrant green eyes that struck him dead or the rosemary scent weaving in and out of the waves in her brown hair that struck him temporarily dumb. Or It could have been the creamy skin – a color of flesh not normally found in the dust sifted slums – or the bell chimes in her vocal cords that made him infatuated with the curve of her hips. He knew then, in the deepest corner of his mind, that he was playing with someone that wasn't his. He had feelings that weren't his.

But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy it.

The newly formed WRO strictly prohibited any civilians in the Midgar ruins, but Cloud knew he was above that rule. It also helped that there was no security presence at the beginnings of the wreckage. Reeve operated on ideals more than practicality. This was a man who made robots for a living.

Cloud drove through a "V" shaped gap left by the collapsing of two roadways above the plate. Debris flew from the little bits of sunlight filtering through holes created by metal meeting metal or just decay from the year passed. Geologists noticed an expedited degradation pattern in the area, as if the planet wanted to erase the memory from its dirt. The amount of decay, waste, and probable carcinogens in the air fostered an environment of bright yellow warning sides taped to the outside walls. It didn't help that cleanup crews had disappeared within these walls; some people went in to get lost while others went in looking for loved ones. There was a special crazy few looking for any leftover Shinra technology, too. There were few survivors from the planet's hated memory.

The planet chose to spare Cloud, because he wasn't looking to exploit one moment in time. At least, not in the Planet's memory – rather someone with an intimate relationship with the earth. Exploitation wasn't even the right word. No, he knew he to understand.

The slums only became dirtier, dustier, and more trashed than they were when he lived down here. The plates hadn't caved in the way Sector 7's had. The top of the plate was a different story – devoid of life at every corner and the best penthouses and brownstones crushed by the weight of the meteor and the rush of the Lifestream. The slums had maintained a style of living that the current deemed unsuitable for anyone.

The irony was it was upgrade from what they had been living. Sunlight filtered through the cracks of the rubble, outlining the buildings and destruction with an ethereal glow. He didn't pay much attention to it, though. Instead he guided Fenrir through a known shortcut to the dark oak doors and stone building with absolutely no destruction other than a hole in the roof.

He pulled the door open with ease, one of the few perks of the Mako energy surging in his cells and crossed the threshold of the old church. The fresh smell was the first thing that attacked his senses. A breakdown threatened to capture his nerves.

"Not today." He breathed out. Unsheathing the Buster Sword and placing it on a pew, he removed his gloves and his jacket. He kicked off his boots and socks before crossing over to the flowerbed and pressing his back into the petals.

For the first time in a long time, he willed himself to close his eyes and lose himself in the feel of silk against his cheek. He told himself he'd wake later and deal with the thoughts in his head.

For now, he only wanted to remember. He could move on later.

* * *

The Edge airport had been built in the span of a month. The parking lot couldn't accommodate the amount of flyers and the roads leading to the terminals swerved. Even Rude had hated this place and insisted they flew out of Kalm for their week to Costa del Sol. The only positive attribute about this airport was the flights were cheap and baggage came fast.

It took Yuffie five minutes from her call that she had landed to join Tifa in the toasty cab of her truck. The girls hugged quickly

"Your hair!" The shorter girl exclaimed when she pulled away to study her friend.

"It was a lot shorter before. It's finally back to a length that doesn't make my face look odd." Tifa ran a hand through the pin straight locks.

"As if your face would ever look odd!" Yuffie wrapped her arms around Tifa for another squeeze. The cars behind Tifa's in line honked. She maneuvered her vehicle onto the highway before asking if Yuffie had eaten during the 10-hour plane ride from Wutai.

"I'm starving and tired." Yuffie threw herself against the seat to emphasize the state of her depravity. A new, choppy addition to her bob emphasized her round face and her skin glowed with a winter contentment the Wutaiin skin tone was known for displaying during the harshest weather.

"Well, my favorite place is closed for repairs, but I know a couple of other good places."

"Anything! I could eat a full Chocobo right now – feathers included!"

"No feathers today."

"Agreed. Just feed me. I'd be annoyed as all get out if you invited me all this way _and_ paid for my plane ticket but didn't give me any food."

"I wouldn't do that to you, Yuffie." Tifa laughed. "I've got very specific work for you that requires quite a bit of fuel."

 _And besides that, I wouldn't leave any of my friends hanging._ She added in her mental notation of the conversation. The smugness that followed the statement quickly dissipated when she remembered those big blue eyes never having a moment to register her father.

She shook her head.

"Not today."

"Hmm?"  
"Nothing." Tifa answered Yuffie and pulled on to the highway. "Let's go get you some food." She pressed the accelerator into the floorboard of her truck and let the fumes from the exhaust trail her. Today was a day for moving on; remembering is something she could do later.

* * *

 _I am so sorry for the delay, y'all! I took the month of May to travel abroad and to relax after a rather stressful semester of graduate school. I really appreciate all the reviews and PM's inquiring when I was going to update next. Once again, it humbles me all of the feedback I've gotten on this little story. I'm sorry this chapter is so short, I'm still getting over jet lag._

 _Cheers!_


	29. Thieves

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Thieves

* * *

Wutai boasted a wetter climate than Edge. Winters were hard because of the sleet and slush mixing in the frigid air. Tifa had learned the hard way: walking through the worst of it in nothing but a leather mini-skirt and white crop top. The red boots she once wore only protected her feet from the onslaught of the cold wind. She remembered being thankful for no snow or cloudy weather, but still kicked herself for not packing properly. Not that she had the chance to, anyway.

The dining room made her feel almost too warm in her gray jeans and brown furry boots. She loosened the zipper on her blue sweatshirt before giving the waiter her drink order. It was when she looked up from the menu and looked at her friend head on that she noticed the impracticality of the teenager's outfit.

"What is that?" She pointed to the orange fabric shaped like a triangle. It hung over Yuffie's shoulders and reminded Tifa of a sheep farmer she knew in Nibelheim.

"Oh, this?" Yuffie pointed a manicured nail to her thick material. "It's a poncho."

"Why are you wearing it?"

"Are you saying it's ugly?"

"I was going for 'interesting.'"

"It's all the rage in Cosmo Canyon. This and ruffle boots and blue eyeliner."

"It all makes so much sense now." The waiter came with their drink orders and Tifa wrapped her hands around the mug of her coffee while Yuffie dove into her soda filled to the brim with ice. After a few noisy slurps, the teenager noticed the large crimson eyes studying her.

"You got somethin' to say?" She belched.

"I'm cold just watching you." Tifa giggled. Yuffie made a motion with the back of her hand usually reserved for brushing something off the outside of a jacket. She took another long sip and smacked her lips.

"And you look tired. I just wanna, like, take an eight-hour nap looking at you."

"It was either pick you up on time or do my makeup."

"I'm glad you picked the former, trust me! But I'm just sayin'. Don't deal it if ya can't hold it."

"That's not even how the expression goes!"

Yuffie rolled her eyes and turned her shoulder to face Tifa. The spunkier of the two lifted two fingers and beckoned the same waiter over. "C'mere, slick."

Tifa raised her eyebrows in response to Yuffie ordering her food. It was a mixture of barking and attempted seduction and filled with one too many winks.

"And I'll have eggs. Over easy." Tifa flipped her menu shut and handed it over to the blushing waiter.

"Oh my gosh." Yuffie slapped her hand down and chugged the rest of her soda. "so I'm in my apartment in Cosmo, right? And I _can't_ sleep. Like, literally, can't and I turn on the television."

"Naturally."

"Yeah! And it's the oddest movie about a priest explaining to a young girl what her period is-"

The sight of littered napkins and an empty coffee mug across the room caught Tifa's eye. It was a rather normal sight, especially after a year of waiting tables, but there was something endearing about the air. The white paper wasn't dabbed with pink lipstick or creamer, but with little bits of wheat cereal and strawberry yogurt. The table has two seats, but only one is occupied by a woman with long hair and a tired, yet rewarded look on her face. A white blanket hid her outfit from Tifa's vision, but the tiny fingers and upturned nose wriggled their way into her sight.

The tendril of black hair made Tifa's heart stop.

But that was the baby's only resemblance of Skye Emily. This one, who after close inspection Tifa concluded to be a boy, had narrow set eyes that bordered on black. The mother herself could pass for half-Wutai if one disregarded her high cheek bones and freckles. She bounced the baby with her knee with one arm wrapped over the blanket. She glanced around a few times before returning to her coffee with a shaking hand. Tifa saw the woman's brown eyes stay on the baby, the dark eyelashes threatening to touch her cheeks.

The little hand reached up and grabbed a baby fistful of his mother's thick brown ponytail and close. The lady immediately placed her cup down and looked to make a tiny noise of surprise. She gave her baby big, faux-terrified eyes.

Yuffie could hear the baby's giggle and paused her story to appreciate it.

"Anyway, so then the lady grows up and moves to – "

Tifa's eyes focused back on the scene behind Yuffie's hand gestures. A waiter came with a plate of fruit and set it on the dirty table while the mother hoisted the infant out of his blanket with buzzing lips. She turned him over in her arms and squeezed him close to her breasts, placing a kiss on his left cheek. The baby giggled and clapped his hands, showing off three teeth. The mom started to cut the food with her fork and placed bits of strawberries into his chubby hand. These pieces are devoured by the growing boy, leaving nothing but seeds and fragments of juice around his lips. The mom proceeded to cut up and orange slice into appropriate pieces for the baby's mouth.

"Tifa?"

"Hmm?" Her hair flipped back at the sound of being caught.

"Why d'you have that look on your face?"

"What look?"

"That look you had whenever Cloud and Aerith were alone together."

She sighed and pulled her eyes away from the eating baby. She reminded herself that babies one day grow up to be seventeen year olds with no tact. She fought the urge to sigh.

"Ouch, Yuffie."

"Just sayin'." Yuffie swung her head back to study the scenes behind her. She turned back around and peered at her friend. "Is it that couple over there? I mean, they _kinda_ look like Cloud and her, but she's, like, way too pretty and he's got bad acne."

Tifa followed Yuffie's train of thought to a different part of the eating area. There was indeed a blonde and brunette sharing pancakes with an intensity that made Tifa look away as soon as she found them.

"Um…"

"I know it's hard, but it'll be a year soon." Yuffie's hand reached out for Tifa's. The older one accepted the gesture with a smile. Their food came shortly after and Yuffie left her comfort role in exchange for a knife, fork, and an unsuspecting plate of pancakes and bacon.

They ate in silence with Tifa taking every opportunity she could to glance back at the mother and her child.

"Yuffie?" She said after clearing her plate. The younger female grunted in between a mouthful of food to acknowledge Tifa.

"If you're living in Cosmo Canyon now, why did you fly out of Wutai?"

This time Yuffie sat down her utensils and let out a long sigh. The palms of her hands fell beside her plate in a loud bang, alerting the whole restaurant including the baby.

"The apartment is like a failsafe."

"A … what?"

"Y'know. A plan B where no parties get hurt."

"I thought you were taking care of your dad back home?"

"When I can. He's just so grumpy all the time and Wutai is _boring_! There's no culture anymore beyond the main square."

"You said you'd fix that last year."

"That's the thing! No one wants to change. They like it that way. They're like 'tourism means big money for us and money means food.' No one wants to go back to the old ways."

"So you-"

"I getaway to the Canyon whenever I can't take it anymore. It's the only bastion of civilization, the good kind anyway, left in the world." Yuffie took another bite of food. "I come back to Godo whenever he asks me too. Which is a lot because the man can't manage a household."

Tifa could feel the subject turning tense. Her immediate question would have been _well, why didn't you tell me?_ But that's when she remembered that she hadn't been around to listen to Yuffie's vents and complains. Tifa thumbed the end of her fork while Yuffie continued, waiting only until she was completely done before she spoke again.

"Well, I hope Godo is ok with you being gone for a couple of weeks, because I definitely need your expertise."

"With what?"

"Renovations." And stealing time. She added the last part in silence.

* * *

It wasn't the brightening sun or the sound of construction work that stirred him from one of the better sleeps he had had in months. He distinguished where his skin stopped and the petals began by a soft tap on his shoulder. If he hadn't thought much about it, he would've sworn it was a feather drifting from the raptors of the church.

But this was the slums. Nothing down here was full of grace or beauty, nor did anything happen coincidentally.

He opened his eyes into the sepia kissed atmosphere, waiting as his eyes sorted each object from the white light from the sky. He blinked once and then twice. The feeling of his eyelashes against his cheeks reminding him that this wasn't a dream. Cloud curled his fingers against the stems of the flowers surrounding them and remembered that he had discarded his gloves towards the entrance of the church.

And his sword.

Oh shit, the Buster Sword!

He shot up with a violent rush of air around him, Cloud's heart constricted in his chest while his esophagus threatened to cave in.

He turned his head around to see the doors to the church swinging closed. He pushed onto his feet and picked up a sprint to the end pew. His gloves and his sword were still lying haphazardly on the seat of the elongated wooden bench.

His jacket with his Fenrir keys and wallet, however, were gone.

* * *

 _I'm supposed to be writing a proposal for a conference due by Monday but clearly this is more important, right?_


	30. Miscommunication

Chapter Thirty: Miscommunication

* * *

"I think there's asbestos in here." Yuffie announced with her nose scrunched. Tifa had just placed a thick canvas on the dining room floor of the pub and began to work paint buckets open with a screwdriver.

"There can't be asbestos in a 6-month-old building." Tifa deadpan. She motioned for Yuffie to come down and help her open the cans of paint. The smaller woman persisted and kept her hands firm against the bones in her body.

"Did you have an inspector come through?" This comment caused Tifa's shoulders to hunch up to her ears and she sat back on her heels, staring at the standing protestor.

"I have the paperwork upstairs." She spoke through gritted teeth. "This place is all aligned with code."

"Hey, I'm just making sure!" Yuffie hopped down on to her own ankles and began ripping open a package of paint brushes. "It's just dusty."

"That's a cleaning issue. Not a structural one."

"I didn't pretend to be the expert on buildings."

"You're Yuffie Kisaragi – you can do anything."

The comment caused red to blossom on Yuffie's neck and cheeks. Tifa fought back a smug grin when she realized she caught the girl in her own insecurities, but the warm feeling bubbling in her chest spread throughout her whole body. It was fair, after all, given the diner scene two hours before. Though, the more Tifa thought about it the more thankful she became over the natural assumption that she was still jealous and sore from being the third wheel and not the longing of having a child again.

"Yeah. Yeah. Give me two hours and I'll have this place pristine." Yuffie shook dark hair out of her face and pushed her chest out as she spoke. Paintbrush in one hand and the other on her hip, she made a melodious sound one could assume to be a victory theme. Time had only matured some of the small ninja's senses, but her spunk and love for life couldn't be quenched. At least not in this decade.

 _Put her through labor without an epidural_. Tifa's mind clucked. She bit the inside of her cheek – even she didn't have to succumb to that kind of pain.

Tifa rolled her eyes and dropped a can of paint in front of her. Yuffie caught the small smile forming on the older girl's lips.

"Get to work. Don't worry about the carpets, I'm going to replace them later."

"Is that way you put a tarp down?"

"Well, I might be able to get a return on the investment!" Cackling laughter erupted from Yuffie.

"What?" It was Tifa's turn to plant her hands on her hips.

"I'm really glad to see you haven't changed." Yuffie giggled and dipped her paintbrush into a fresh coat of paint.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." The girl with the bob haircut winked a blew a loud kiss to the other side of the room.

The buzzing and ringing from Tifa's left pocket interrupted the girls' work. Tifa mumbled an apology and gripped the device between her index finger and her thumb. Her mind failed to keep up with her eyes.

The screen flashed to the missed call notification before she could press 'ANSWER.' With fidgeting fingers and stilled breath, she pressed the call back button and cradled the phone to her ear. She flipped her hair over her free shoulder and looked up at Yuffie, busy painting a large W on the rear wall.

Maybe it was a combination of nerves and paint fumes, but Tifa began to feel her lungs collapse on one other and a dull pain form in her head. She made a quick, jerking motion to Yuffie – letting her know she was going somewhere private. The teenager smiled and nodded. Tifa thanked the planet that the one time she needed peace she got it. She shut the door behind her and sat on the on the bottom of the stairwell leading up to the loft.

Her heartbeat followed the phone ringing. The possibility of it being an accidental dial, his phone being stolen, or he had left his only source of communication somewhere ran through her mind. She could hang up this time. After all, he hadn't answered her calls for weeks, almost months! She searched her thoughts, sifting through the possible ways to begin this phone conversation.

 _Hello?_ Too standard.

 _Hey, long time no chat!_ Too subtle. Too cutesy.

 _I've see you've finally fallen into my feminine wiles._ Only Yuffie could pull up something that forward.

She only heard the sound of the breath on the other line before launching into her own, undecided greeting.

"Cloud, what a surprise." She paused to let the words sink in. She knew she sounded defeated. "You never call. Is something wrong?"

Silence. She thought she heard something lowering.

"Cloud?" She persisted again. A small voice in her ears told her to shut up and let the man talk. She shook her head in the dark. He could do the listening this time.

 _Talk to me!_ She willed in the white noise over the line.

"No ma'am." The voice sounded young, on the verge of starting his journey to be a man. Tifa felt her eyebrow perk up and her lips press together.

"Well," She moved to brush imaginary dirt off her shin. "Who, then?" The other line answered her with silence.

"Why do you have Cloud's phone?" She asked. The annoyance began to prickle on the roots of her scalp and perspiration appeared on her wrists. Did Cloud have a son she didn't know about? She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of her own thought process.

"I don't know." The voice broke on the last word.

"Who is this?" She clasped the phone with both of her hands and stood up, contemplating whether it was worth climbing the stairs or not.

"I don't know. Please…" Heaving made the words staccato. "I don't know what to do. I can't do this."

Then she heard it. The sound of the dam breaking in his eyes.

"Hey. Are you crying?"

The line went dead. Tifa let out a frustrated groan and shoved the PHS back in her pocket. While the split second she had considered throwing it against the wall seemed nice, she remembered that this child might try to call again.

She told herself she couldn't process this now. Not while Yuffie was awake. Tifa turned the knob to the door and walked into the main room of the downstairs, only to almost pummel the 5'0" girl standing directly in front of her.

"We got a problem." Her eyes didn't meet Tifa's.

"What kind of problem?"

Yuffie pointed to a water stain gliding down the freshly painted wall. Tifa eyed it up and down before walking up to the vertical stream. Touching it and not caring if her fingers would be stained with mahogany paint, she peered up into the cracks of the ceiling. She recognized the lavender smell first then she realized that the water source came from her refurbished bathroom.

"Tifa?" Yuffie placed a hand on the girl's shoulders. She turned around suddenly, startling the ninja with both her movements and the wild look in her eyes. In a second, Tifa had both her hands gripped on Yuffie's shoulders, her nails digging into the deltoids.

Tifa stepped forward first and pulled Yuffie into a hug. She didn't know what her poncho was made out of, but hopefully it would last through a much needed cry session.

* * *

 _Ok, so I pulled that phone conversation directly from an FFVII primary source. (I'll let you guess what it is.)_

 _I love how I go from 3,000 word chapters during the most stressful time in school to leisurely 1200 word chapters when I'm on break. Hopefully you guys don't mind! I plan on getting back on a normal updating schedule soon(ish)._


	31. Surge

Chapter Thirty-One: Surge

* * *

Cloud found the thief on the ground next to the Fenrir, thankfully not moved from its original parking spot. From a distance, it looked like the small figure slept under the shadow of the motorcycle. He approached the shape much like he'd approach a sleeping Midgar Zolom. He stepped over pieces of debris, trying not to wake up the pickpocket.

He fought a shiver trying to surge through his blood. He had forgotten how humid the air was in this part of the world. Midgar sat further north than Nibelheim, and the flatness of the land led to more winds pushing through. The location also situated itself closer to the sea than any of his past homes, save his stint in Costa del Sol. Either way, it made his simple uniform of a thin sweater vest and thin jeans seem all the more ridiculous.

To be fair, the bastard did have his jacket.

He crouched down by the sleeping figure and noticed the smallness of the frame. His brown leather coat, which did fit larger on Cloud, swallowed the thief with room for second servings. The wind picked up and swirled around the mop of brown hair. The pieces of debris and fleas were impossible to miss, but Cloud focused more on the smooth, albeit dirty, skin on the face belonging to that scalp.

"Shit." He breathed out before he could think against it. This was a kid. Cloud reached out to nudge the boy awake, but the sleeping child's body beat him to it. The rumbling in his chest increased within moments and travelled up his esophagus. Black phlegm leaked from his lips. The blonde acted on instinct, shifting the boy onto his side and brushing the dirt around his eyes away. He tried to ignore the feeling of bone where plump skin should be.

The eyes squeezed together in a desperate attempt to stop coughing, then they opened and blinked a few times before finally registering the stranger in front of him.

The blue around the pupils was the purest color Cloud had ever seen. The look of absolute fear and awe reflected in them made the man's skin tighten around his biceps. A surge of emotion boiled in his chest. A sense of honor, a duty he had once forgotten.

The eyes shut and coughing, more violent than the last attack, ensued. The blood once pulsing in Cloud's heart congealed. This kid – this boy – seemed to be days from death. Cloud hadn't felt this powerless in a long time.

"Hey." Cloud said when the chest stilled before sputtering into even breathing and the eyes opened again. He placed a gloved hand on the ground – to steady himself or reach out to the boy, he didn't know. All he could think about was getting those blue eyes to focus on something other than his pain.

He finally looked up at. The pink under the eyelids and the red in the whites of his eyes wasn't as noticeable as the ashen quality of his skin. Cloud felt his stomach lurch as the smell of homelessness and sickness reached his nostrils.

"What's your name?" Cloud asked the first question that came to his mind.

"I… uh…" More phlegm came out of his mouth. Cloud reached a hand over the boys back and a gave a hard pat. The black substance fell out of his body before the boy retreated back to a fetal position. As the bird-like body hit the dirt, the soft jingle of metal on metal whistleted through the air and fell out of the kid's baggy pants.

The Fenrir keys. Cloud pocketed them before the boy could reach for them. A scenario which was highly unlikely given the ragged breathing and the quick heart beat Cloud could feel from the boy's back. He waited until the breathing slowed.

"Ok. Let's try this again," Cloud shifted to a cross legged position. "What were you planning to do with the keys to my motorcycle? You can't get far like that."

The boy wiped his face and glared up at Cloud. The black phlegm stained the right sleeve of his shirt.

"It's none of your business."

"Hey, kid. If you're gonna play aloof, at least get some original lines." Cloud traced the dirt with his fingers. "But it is my Fenrir and don't think I forgot the wallet."

The kid pushed off the ground with shaky arms and mimicked Cloud's position. He scratched his head as he spoke. "I wanted something to give her."

"Give who?"

"The angel."

Cloud felt his blood still. "What angel?"

"The one with the long brown hair. She'll be here any minute. I don't have anything to give her thanks to you!" The boy tried to stand up, but the coughs caught him again, paralyzing him in a crouched position as the blackness oozed out of his lips. Cloud stood up and steadied him. He had forgotten the conversation as soon as his fits started.

Once steadied, Cloud lifted the child up into his arms and started into the church. This kid needed some food, a good rest, and probably a bath. Cloud was only willing to help out with two of these things. A soft smirk loosened the blonde's face.

"Guess I'm no angel."

He pushed back into the church and had the intention of setting the boy on one of the pews and using the Materia he had to help the boy at least see tomorrow. Then, and only then, would he take him into town and see if any doctor would see him.

"I'm not either." The soft voice stopped him from walking further. Elmyra looked good, she always had, with graceful laugh lines and brown hair only lightening near the roots – never graying. She wore a long blue skirt and white shirt. Her hands held a bag full of food. She her gaze hardened when she saw the boy hanging limp in Cloud's arms.

"How'd I miss you coming in?" Cloud asked. Glancing around the heavy oak doors.

"I took the back entrance. Those doors are getting to heavy for an old lady like me." She kept her gaze on the sick one. "He's getting worse." Her lips receded into her teeth. She looked up to Cloud before suggesting they move the makeshift hospital to a place where the temperature could be controlled.

 **0_0_0_0_0_0**

Elmyra may have adopted Aerith, but Cloud noticed the similarities between the mother and daughter as if they were biological. The lithe woman flitted through her cabinets in search of rags and other household items to help the boy feel somewhat comfortable.

"They haven't named it yet, but the WRO is tossing around something after something." She explained when the puss oozed out of the boy's forehead. "I personally think they should spend less time naming and more time curing it, but what do I know." She pulled out another wash cloth and replaced it on the boy's head.

"is it contagious?" Cloud asked from his position against the counter. He watched Elmyra work with appreciation.

"No one knows, so make sure you wash your hands." She barked, tucking the pink quilt around the body. "Denzel."

"Hmm?"

"His name. Denzel." Elmyra stopped what she was doing and reclined against the kitchen island. Her new house was smaller than the last, fit for one person. "I always go to the church on Wednesdays to keep up with the flowers, and I caught him lurking around one day. I thought he would jump me at first, but when I got a good look at him, he just looked so hungry. I started leaving food on the steps for him."

"And he told you his name?"

"After six meals and a blanket."

"He just stole my wallet." Elmyra laughed at this and remarked that eventually she'd do his laundry and give the item back to the owner.

"The kids these days…"

"No manners."

The two broke into an awkward laughter. Cloud stared at his elbows when Denzel started coughing again. Elmyra attended to the boy with diligence and gentleness that reminded Cloud of a time past.

"Wh-where am I?" Denzel asked while Elmyra cleaned the infection over his forehead.

"Shh." She soothed. "You just had a little sleep that's all."

"I-Is he here?"  
"Who?"

"The blonde guy. I – I took his wallet."

Cloud smiled at this and his chest filled with that same warmness he'd experienced earlier. He leaned over on his side and caught the boy's wide blue eyes. His mind drifted while he watched the boy's eyes change from fear to comfort. There was feeling of pride that spread through him when he realized that he comforted the small child.

"I'm here, Denzel."

Denzel fell back asleep almost immediately. Elmyra changed the bandaged and looked back over to Cloud.

"Do you plan on staying in Edge long?"

"It was my original destination before I got sidetracked." Elmyra wrapped the dirty bandages in a plastic bag before throwing them in the garbage and moved across the room to scrub her hands with steaming water. Cloud had planned to make it over to Tifa, but reality is always harder than the theory. When he considered how little he knew about the baby – _his_ baby. All he knew was her name. When he looked over at Denzel again, he figured what he felt could have been a fraction of what Tifa felt when she delivered _their_ baby.

Shiva, she was a trooper.

The questions flooded his mind again. He suppressed the twitching inside his fingers to reach for his phone and dial that number in his phone. A few times he had tried, but his tongue would freeze up and his fingers would still. Stage fright at his age was now laughable and not pitiful.

"The ruins have a way of doing that." She whispered. "But we can't let them control us."

"Easier said than done."

"Trust me, I know." Elmyra snorted and turned off the faucet. "But, would you mind staying here for the night? Or, at least, until the boy's better. I think he's attached to you."

Cloud snorted and the word _irony_ swam through his brain.

* * *

No sound resonated in the room save for the radiator in the corner and filling the room with a burning smell. The women sat across from one another on the bed. Their knee caps mere whispers from one another, and the fabric of the purple quilt bunched around the indentations of their hips. Red irises with puffy eyelids locked onto brown. For moments, it seemed like both of the girls forgot to breathe.

Agitation and panicked energy jumped on her arms and legs like fleas and burrowed into Tifa's blood stream. Her bones beseeched the rest of her systems to move: straightening sheets, taking a walk about the room, or crying another liter of water. She ploughed her palms with the edges of her nails and chewed on her bottom lips. She had considered, for one mad moment, that she and Yuffie had switched bodies. Yuffie reminded her of glass: smooth and reflective of the mood lingering in the room.

Her emotions bounced off the ninja and punched Tifa in the face. The feelings, baring and bold, shot to the nerve endings of her lower spine and upper thighs. She rocked back and forth from the internal onslaught. Her heart sputtered back into a regular beat.

An hour before, she had emptied the contents of her mind onto the quilt. It had been a simple sentence – _I had a baby_. The afterbirth of her concession boomed throughout the room, seeping into the stitching of the fabric of her shirt.

For a wild moment, Tifa considered getting up stripping the sheets Yuffie sat on and running the laundry. Anything to get out of this room held the promise of pushing her thoughts outside of her body. No. No, she couldn't do that. Anymore water could destroy the foundation of this place. Plus, Yuffie didn't look like she would move if prompted.

More importantly, Tifa was tired. Tired of running. Tired of keeping secrets. Tired of being alone.

She regarded Yuffie again – the girl's mouth agape and the wisps of her hair still stuck to the skin around her eyebrows and lips. The only indication that she hadn't been petrified came from the steady, yet potent, rise and fall from her narrow chest.

"Please say something." The words broke the silent spell cast by her breakdown an hour before. She saw Yuffie's eyes flash from deep, faraway thoughts to a cat-like focus that made Tifa wish she hadn't said anything.

"A…" The ninja opened her mouth and then closed it again, allowing sometime for the gears to shift. "A baby?"

Tifa felt her chin move up and down before vocally confirming the question. Yes, a baby. A beautiful, raven-haired baby with eyes bluer than the ocean. A baby who left too soon. _Her_ baby.

"I mean," Yuffie glanced around the room in search of anything from a bassinet to a rattle. She closed her lips again and blinked a few more times. She worked through her sentence with caution until she realized her question: "what happened to it?"

The words whipped at Tfia and made her wince. "She," Tifa corrected in a soft tone, "died three weeks after her birthday – heart failure."

Yuffie made a sound Tifa couldn't interpret then began to shift her weight on her heels. "Did _she_ have a name?"

"Skye. Skye Emily Lockhart."

"Where was she born?"

"Kalm. The beginning of July last year."

"The father?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Tifa's lip lifted at the end of her question. At the time, knowing that the party had seen just a moment of Cloud and Tifa's rendezvous had been mortifying. Now, with a year and a month spacing the memories, Tifa could only laugh. When they had decided to move in together those weeks later, Yuffie had been the first to advise against it. It had been the closet the ninja had ever gotten to lecturing Tifa about her sexual history.

"I knew something had happened when you climbed into the Highwind with hay in your hair."

"I thought you didn't buy the story?"

"What? The sleeping story? Everyone _knew_ something was going to happen. It was more of a _when_ it would happen. Of course I didn't buy your alibi – you coulda been more creative then _nightmares_ , Tif!" Yuffie switched between a scolding tone and a small catch in her voice, as if still baffled by the bold faced lie. "But I didn't want to believe it."

Tifa didn't feel like pressing any further. Her nails rimmed the bones shaping her knees.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me." Yuffie's voice soft and quivering.

"I threw my phone away."

"You managed to find me without it."

"Yuffie…"

"No. No. I get it. It's personal." Yuffie threw her hands up and looked away. "But, I would've told you not do it."

"Not do what?"

"Sleep with him. Have your baby alone." The objectivity in her words made Tifa's skin rise. Yuffie's preferences had always been apparent, but now it verged on explicit. "Hell, I would've told you not to have it. Not in this sorry state of the world."

" _Her."_ Tifa shook her head. "That's not fair."

"Why?"

"I left before I knew."

"Do you think you would have stayed?" Tifa understood the subjunctive nature if Yuffie's question. If she knew before she had made her resolve.

"Probably not." She tucked a piece of hair behind her. "How was I supposed to know that one time would leave to all this."

"It only takes _one time_." Yuffie's eyes narrowed. Tifa looked away.

"I know you don't think we're good together, but it still happened and I still had her."

"Don't play the martyr right now. It's not a good look for you." Yuffie faced her palm to Tifa and looked at her head on.

"Then what is it?"

"You're right. I don't think you and Cloud are good together. I never have. But it's not a matter of which chick is better for him, either. He was never good enough for you!"

"What?"

Yuffie huffed. "He's unsettled and wishy-washy. A royal pain in the ass who couldn't decide between you and someone who wanted way too badly to be everyone's mother and best friend." Yuffie counted the points on her fingers. "In fact, I would go so far to say I was _ecstatic_ for you that night he and Aerith went out at the Golden Saucer because it meant you could move on! Move on to someone cuter, much more interesting, and better acting towards you."

"You realize you're talking about the father of my child right."

"Dead child. Sorry." Yuffie interjected when she caught Tifa wincing again. "I know it must devastate you. But this is really a good thing."

"It's a good thing that I had to bury my child?"

"You would've used her as an excuse to go back to Cloud!"

"I would not!"

"Puh-lease, Tifa."

The two girls stared an each other again. An impasse settled in the space between them. The resentment over the last year creeped into Tifa's muscles and pulled at her bones like tightening screws.

"I couldn't do it anymore. Back then, there was so much promise that things were going to be different. _He_ would be different. We were going to try this – being together. But it was as if he had one foot in the present and the other glued in the past."

Yuffie pressed her knees together and leaned forward.

"And I'll have you know I did move on." Tifa said, her head cast downward. She hated the way her voice sounded. "Someone wonderful, but I couldn't seem to get myself out of believing that Cloud and I will be together one day."

"I worry about you, Tif." Yuffie said, rocking back on her hips.

"Why?"

"You're too understanding sometimes."

"Not really." Tifa snorted. "I've had my moments to be angry. Now, I'm just tired and I want to get this damn leak fixed."

"Can we call a plumber?"

"We could, but money's an issue."

"Are you serious?"

"I don't want to break the bank on this place. I've already had too much invested just to lose it, twice now."

"Tifa. This is a _new life_ – "

"That's a lie I've told myself too many times." Tifa said with a regretful smirk. "You know the last time I said that is when I threw my phone in the ocean?"

"What'd the phone ever do to ya?"

"Yuffie!"

"Hush, hush." Yuffie rocked forward and placed her hands over Tifa's. "This time, it's you, me, and anyone else you want to get it contact with now. It's togetherness; family; friends. Whatever you want to call it. You just can't leave me this time."

"I won't." Tifa promised, flexing her fingers in Yuffie's grip.

"Good. Now, let's go brainstorm."  
"I was thinking of calling Barret – he's got that investment money from the last…"

"No. No, not that kind of brainstorming." Yuffie jumped off the bed and twirled around the room. "Maybe you should rebound with…"  
"Oh no. Unless they're 6'5", sworn off women forever, and have adorable adoptive daughters, I don't want to think about anyone else with the Y chromosome."

"Well, what about that guy you – "

"Another story for another day." Tifa laughed merrily.


End file.
